


heartbeat highway

by xiseoks



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: 40k of me waxing poetic about jongdae, 80s, Cliches Galore, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Road Trips, Romance, Slice of Life, baekhyun's personality is being in love with jongdae, no penetrative sex but there Are Dicks, yes I'm annoying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 19:44:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20588051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiseoks/pseuds/xiseoks
Summary: It isn't too late for them.





	heartbeat highway

**Author's Note:**

  * For [johnwick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnwick/gifts).

> fellas is it gay to get matching tattoos with your bro
> 
> so as it turns out, I can only finish fics anymore if they're written for someone :s this one's for my dear chrissy, ily, happy late birthday!!! the way I shut myself in solitary confinement in order to finish this jndkjdjf sorry it's so late anyway i love u ;n; thanks for always indulging in baekchen with me and for being a great friend in general I love u soso much!! :D shoutout to LC for tolerating me complaining about writing and suffering while finishing this fic kfjgfd you the mvp babe ilu
> 
> also I haven't written smut in a hot MINUTE so I'm rusty, pls be gentle. also . this is like. half-edited. so . I'm really really sorry if there's some keysmash or frustrated-writer-commentary I forgot to take out nxkjfdkjfg it's one am
> 
> edit: forgot to say, but song of choice for this fic is classic 80s jam ‘don’t dream it’s over’ by crowded house!

Baekhyun is all smiles, always. It’s what he’s known for. It’s what everyone notices about him first.

He’s all smiles, has to be when his friends and classmates are cheering with the relief and accomplishment of four years of hard work and teenage drama all being lifted from their fragile, young shoulders. They jostle him, yelling _”We did it!”_. He returns all the high fives offered to him with equal enthusiasm, because he’s always sure to match their energy, to give them the same energy back. He makes jokes on everyone getting old, and he loses count on how many promises he’s made to keep in touch.

He’s always been good at this anyway, at pretending there weren’t more pressing thoughts on his mind as his lips widened into its trademark grin that has snatched so many of his classmate’s hearts. He _was_ happy, of course. He’d worked hard to get here — perhaps harder than he’s ever worked, which is saying something considering his evenings out on the school soccer field with a coach as strict as Mr. Jung were basically torture.

But he found that he could not engage as freely with everyone as he would have liked, not when he keeps wondering—

_What’s next?_

It feels like he’ll be leaping into the unknown, and that’s never been something he’s good at. He prefers the familiar, routine — or at least, he convinces himself of this. He thinks, as he stands in the middle of the chaotic scene of graduates and families jostling around him, that what he really likes — and what he’ll _really_ miss — is the idea of promised success. Guaranteed reward. He’s so used to it, after all.

That’s when his eyes glaze over a figure standing among the crowds of families gathering and people passing through his vision, just blurs of movement. The figure’s eyes are on him, a quaint smile on his face and his hands in denim pockets. He is not dressed up as everyone else is, only in his usual attire of an oversized woolen sweater and cotton beanie.

Baekhyun cannot help but grin at the sight of him. He’s always been a sight for sore eyes.

Kim Jongdae makes a little motion with his head, a quick tick towards the bleachers inside the field that they’d all been crowded around. When he turns around to head in that direction, Baekhyun understands what he’s wordlessly asked.

He turns to glance back at his friends briefly, finding Kyungsoo’s elbow and grabbing at it to nab his attention. “I’ll be back, man,” he says, darting off before Kyungsoo can even say anything or ask any questions.

He weaves through the crowd towards the bleachers, having lost Jongdae among them, but it’s alright, because he knows where to find him anyway. A classmate he vaguely knows passes him by with a _”Congrats, man!”_ and a fist bump.

The bleachers have emptied of families by now, occupied now only by the remnants of popped balloons. And Jongdae, of course, who sits smack in the center of the wing closest to Baekhyun with his elbows on his knees as he waits for him.

“Skipping classes I can understand,” Baekhyun calls as he climbs the steps towards him, “but your own graduation?”

There’s the smallest hint of a smirk on Jongdae’s face as he leans back against the row of bleachers behind him. Except it’s not a smirk, because Jongdae doesn’t smirk. It’s smug though. He can definitely be smug.

“Miss?” Jongdae asks. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“At the very last minute. Didn’t think you were going to come at all, actually.”

Baekhyun approaches, taking his seat on the bench beside him. He’s still in his gown, although his hat has been lost among the crowds out in the parking lot.

“Well, I got to support my lil’ Dragonfly,” Jongdae says, reaching forward to pinch the fat of Baekhyun’s cheek.

Baekhyun shrugs him off, making a face at the nickname but laughing all the same. “Quit your lying. You’re trying to say you came just for me?”

“Well, yeah, why not,” Jongdae shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “All of my other friends are out of high school already, you know that. You’re the only one here left.”

“You and your fancy, cool rocker friends,” Baekhyun teases with a chortle.

“I am proud of you though, Byun,” Jongdae says, tone a little more serious now. Baekhyun can feel his gaze on the side of his face, feel his heavy eyes there. Heavy with meaning, like they always are. “You worked really hard this past year.”

“Barely made it through,” Baekhyun says with a huff, eyes downcast as he painstakingly recalls the nights spent awake studying for, basically, the first time in his high school career.

A comfortable silence falls between them, filled only by the muffled cheers and chattering of the crowd of graduates yards away from them. Baekhyun watches as they run around like little navy blue ants.

“How you feelin’, big shot?” Jongdae asks, clasping his hands together as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees again. He looks out onto the field. “This is your stage, right here. The last time you’ll be here.”

“I don’t know how to feel,” Baekhyun says. He squints his eyes through the setting sun, eyes following Jongdae’s to land on the soccer field in front of them. It had been his home for the past four years, and though there were plenty of times he’d felt like torching it to the ground, he’s got to admit it ignites a spark in him that he couldn’t exactly get anywhere else.

“What about you?” Baekhyun asks. “You’ve graduated too, technically.”

Jongdae just shrugs, presses his lips together. “Yeah, but this place was never meant for me. I feel nothing, leaving it behind. You though, it’s basically a part of you.”

“It’s all of me, if we’re being honest,” Baekhyun says with an honest chuckle. “That’s why I feel so damn weird about it. I spent all that time working and studying in order to get here in the first place and now that I _am_ here, I… I’m scared for whatever comes next.”

Jongdae’s quiet for a beat between them before he rustles besides Baekhyun, reaching into his pocket and pulling out yet another sight for sore eyes — a silver flask.

He hands it to Baekhyun, corners of his lips sloped up. “To graduation,” he says, an irony to his tone. Baekhyun chortles, taking the flask gratefully and immediately popping it open.

“Always a lifesaver, Kim,” he says, throwing its contents down his throat.

“It’s what I’m here for.”

Baekhyun comes back up with a slightly thrilled _whoo_, alcohol surging through his system. It’s heavier than he expected, a little more acidic than usual, but more adrenaline-inducing, his nerves on fire immediately. “Where the fuck do you get this stuff, man?”

“My fancy, cool, rockstar friends, of course,” Jongdae says, clapping a hand on Baekhyun’s back as the latter coughs after taking another sip.

“My friends wonder why the fuck I still hang out with you,” Baekhyun laughs, throwing his head back for another shot. It burns down his throat, pulling a hiss from him. “I tell ‘em it’s because you always got the good shit.”

Jongdae laughs. “You know full well it’s because I’m the only one ever willing to put up with your bullshit.”

“Wish I could argue with you,” Baekhyun shrugs, offering the flask back to Jongdae. “Anyone who’s known me for more than two months gets annoyed or pissed and fucks off to somewhere else. You’ve been with me since we were, what, ten? Eleven? Just kids, riding our bikes around the neighborhood.”

“And skipping out on our piano rehearsals,” Jongdae snickers.

“Right,” Baekhyun says. “That’s how we bonded. Our mutual hatred for those lessons.”

Baekhyun still recalls, clear as day, the chair he sat in that day. The clothes he wore, the way the tiles looked underneath his new pair of shoes as he waited for his lesson. The door opened two minutes before his appointed time, and Jongdae had walked out of the classroom, decked out in that suit of his, much too big for his eleven-year-old frame.

“You ever wonder what happened?” Baekhyun asks. “How we got involved in such different lives here? We were so close, but when high school hit, it’s like we got pulled into different crowds.”

It isn’t like Baekhyun to speak hard truths, to address the underlying elephant between them. He would usually rather skirt around the question than ever have to address it head-on. With Jongdae though, he feels he doesn’t have to hide anything.

Jongdae shrugs, bringing the flask to his mouth. “You like sports. I didn’t,” he says simply, with the faintest smile before taking a sip. “And you got that kind of personality, you know. The kind to shine. Well-liked, charming, star material. It made sense.”

Baekhyun hums, takes Jongdae’s words carefully into consideration as his eyes go out over the flat of the field again. The oranges of the sun setting has rays casted through the branches of trees, slanting along the grass and along the bleachers.

“But will it, after all of this?”

“Hm?”

“Is it going to make sense when we leave this place for good,” Baekhyun says, leaving it off as a sentence with no definitive answer rather than a question. “What the fuck will it all have been for?”

Jongdae narrows his eyes thinly at Baekhyun, before promptly shoving the flask into his chest. “Think you need another drink, Byun.”

“I’m not sayin’ I’m going to miss it,” Baekhyun brushes him off. “Like hell, I will. I just don’t know a life other than this, don’t know a world other than this. Feel like I’ve been living in a bubble my whole time here and I...need it to pop before I know what comes next.”

“So pop your bubble,” Jongdae says, mildly amused.

Baekhyun scoffs, but with a slight laugh, shoving Jongdae’s shoulder. “You just don’t get it, man.”

“You think I don’t get it?” Jongdae says, chuckling in disbelief. “I probably get it more than anyone else. I’ve practically been with you for ten years. Listening to you complain about girlfriend-this, or Jongin-did-this-shitty-thing-today that. That’s why no matter what kind of different crowds we pull, at the end of the day, we’re always going to come back here and drink or smoke ourselves dry. I’m the only asshole who will ever get you.”

Jongdae throws his forearm on Baekhyun’s shoulder then, elbow hanging off as he perches his chin on his arm there to give him a bit of a playful smile, eyes glinting. Baekhyun looks away, chuckling to hide his embarrassment at the sudden close proximity.

“Isn’t that right, Dragonfly?” Jongdae asks, the smile never leaving his face, nor his tone, for that matter.

“Don’t know, man,” Baekhyun says. “It’s way too easy to lose yourself here. Too easy to get caught up in everything that in the process you lose a part of yourself and forget who you ever were before it.”

The solemnity in his words has Jongdae frowning then, pulling away again and leaving Baekhyun’s side cold. Baekhyun only hears Jongdae sigh beside him, hears the bench creek under them as he leans back again.

“To be fair,” Jongdae says, “you were fourteen. You were still growing up, figuring out who you were in the first place. And anyway, I don’t think we ever really stop changing who we are. It’s like trial and error. See what works for you, see what doesn’t. Even if it doesn’t work, you’ll still take bits and pieces of that experience with you when you move on. It’s part of the experience, Baek.”

“Experience,” Baekhyun muses over his words.

Then he decides he wants to see what works for him. Decides he wants another experience to learn from, wants lots of them.

“Let’s ditch this place,” Baekhyun says.

“That’s what graduation’s for, isn’t it?”

“Not that,” he says. “I mean, this town. For the summer or something, or a few weeks at the least.”

Even while the thought of leaving here for a while flickers in his mind dangerously, like a lit candle in the wind, it excites him, despite something inside him _knowing_ he shouldn’t. Despite something within him telling him it won’t be a good idea in the end, he wants to say fuck it, and do it anyway. Let future Baekhyun have the hard talk. Let him deal with the consequences. Present Baekhyun is lost and confused and with that excuse, he can do this, and he can do it with Jongdae, which, in retrospect, is the most dangerous detail about this whole insane scheme.

Not Jongdae himself, of course. Just the idea of being with no one _but_ Jongdae.  
_Dangerous_, especially considering Baekhyun hasn’t told him one important detail about his plans after graduation.

Jongdae blatantly stares at Baekhyun in disbelief before he laughs, shooting him an incredulous look. “You really think your old truck is going to make it two miles out of here?”

“What then, your bike?” Baekhyun says. “Like hell if I’m riding that across the country.”

Jongdae narrows his eyes then, sits up straight and perches his arm on his knee as he sizes Baekhyun up. His eyes have gone curious now, glinting with interest.

“You want to do this?” Jongdae asks.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “Why not? Gotta pop that bubble somehow.”

“You and your bubble,” Jongdae chuckles. “Alright, what I meant was, you want to do this — with _me?_”

“I asked you, didn’t I?”

A contemplative look crosses over Jongdae’s expression as he looks away, shrugging and taking a small sip from his flask. “Just thought you’d ask your friends, or something.”

“Are you not my friend?” Baekhyun huffs out with a chuckle that sounds a bit more akin to a scoff.

“You know what I mean,” Jongdae says, nudging Baekhyun’s knee with his own. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“You said it yourself, man. No matter how different the roads we take are, we somehow always end up in the same spot.” Baekhyun smiles at him, loose and languid and crooked. “How about we take the same road for once?”

Jongdae hums, a lopsided smile pulling his mouth up. “Are you sure it’s not just ‘cause no one else will put up with your ass for more than twelve hours?”

“Nah, it’s more like I can’t get rid of you even if I tried, so might as well, right?”

Jongdae rolls his eyes as Baekhyun gently pulls the flask away from him and takes a long drag of it, hissing once more when he pulls it away from his mouth. “Damn, still can’t get used to that.”

“Alright, well, what about money then?”

“You’re literally a _rockstar_, Kim. I’ll just mooch off of you.”

Baekhyun laughs, obnoxious, as Jongdae grimaces and makes a comment under his breath about how he _isn’t even a rock star._

“I’m joking, man,” Baekhyun says. “I’ve got money saved up from when I worked at the car wash and the mall. You can even mooch off of me if you want to.”

“Tempting,” Jongdae says, “but I’ve got some saved too from our gigs.”

“What do you say then? Want to do this with me?”

Jongdae blows air through his lips, cheeks puffed as he thinks it over. He glances at Baekhyun with narrowed eyes again, as if to tell whether or not he really is joking. For a second, Baekhyun thinks he’s going to call him crazy. Thinks he sees a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

But he surprises him, and his mouth is turning up into a relenting smile, and the flicker of doubt is replaced by a light.

“Alright, Dragonfly. Why not,” he says. “But we’re getting your truck fixed first.”

The Sunday of the following weekend brings Baekhyun to Jongdae’s driveway. He leans against his truck door, hands in his pockets and legs crossed as he watches Jongdae scurry around the garage.

“See you later, old buddy,” Jongdae says, patting the handle of his bike before throwing a sheet over it.

“Really hope you’re talking to your bandmate,” Baekhyun says.

“Nope,” says Minseok, who’s sitting nearby on a crate as he tunes a guitar. “He says goodnight to it too.”

“Slightly concerning behavior from a man I’m about to spend hours in a car with.”

“If you could call that a car,” Jongdae shoots back, coming around the truck to throw his last duffle bag on top of their growing pile.

“That the last of it?” Baekhyun asks. Upon Jongdae’s nod, he hitches the back up to barricade their luggage — or what could be excused for luggage, being mostly old duffel bags filled with clothes or plastic bags of toiletries.

“You gotta take care of him now, Byun,” Minseok calls out. “I know he looks bad and I know all those tattoos of his scare people off sometimes but he’s really just a big softie. Make sure he doesn’t wander off a cliff. We still need our lead vocalist.”

“I’ll try my best,” Baekhyun assures with a snicker as Jongdae rolls his eyes. The truck heaves under his weight as he climbs into the driver’s seat, Jongdae joining him when he pulls himself up into the passenger’s.

“He’s protective,” Baekhyun says once Jongdae shuts his door.

Jongdae huffs out a sardonic chuckle, like he knows that all too well. “Minseok’s the oldest. He’s always like that, thinking he needs to watch over us.”

“Is this his place, then?”

“Mhm,” Jongade hums. “I mean, we’re all paying rent, we all live here, save for Jungeun. Didn’t want to live with a bunch of guys.”

“Understandable,” Baekhyun says with a lilt of his mouth. He’s yet to meet the rest of Jongdae’s bandmates but finds himself intimidated by the thought anyway.

Minseok takes a break from messing with his guitar to wave at them as Baekhyun begins to pull out of the driveway, wrapping his arm around Jongdae’s headrest to look back at the rear window.

“How’s your, uh, band feel about you leavin’ for a few weeks?” he asks, voice unsteady and apprehensive. Jongdae waves back at Minseok with a parting smile before he answers.

“They’re cool with it,” he says, buckling in. “Grateful for the break, actually. The way we’ve been at it lately with rehearsals — they could use one.”

“Yeah? You guys getting lots of gigs?”

“Here and there, yeah. Enough to keep us going.”

Baekhyun shoots Jongdae a look as they pull onto the road. “Pah. C’mon, Jongdae, brag a little. I heard you guys played at the Center Stage. That’s a big deal, isn’t it?”

“So you do keep in the loop,” Jongdae says, brow raised in a slightly impressed look.

“Never said I didn’t,” Baekhyun responds, slowing the truck down before reaching across Jongdae into the glove compartment. He pulls out a cassette tape and glances at Jongdae to notice his eyes flash briefly with familiarity at the piece of paper tape on it. _Uprising_ is scrawled across it in red marker.

“You have our tape?”

“Of course,” Baekhyun says, driving slowly through the neighborhood. “I like your music. I always have, you know that.”

“Yeah, but I just thought—” Jongdae says, before he’s stopping himself with a purse of his lips and shake of his head. “Never mind.”

Baekhyun pops the tape into the cassette player, and it’s followed almost immediately by a blare of electric guitar riffs and some howling Baekhyun knows can only be Jongdae. He imitates banging on drums with the steering wheel, grinning sideways at Jongdae as the beat kicks in with a set of drums. Jongdae rolls his eyes with a lopsided smile, embarrassed.

“And now, a special performance by _Uprising’s_ very own, Kim Jongdae!” Baekhyun exclaims as he finally turns onto the main road to begin their adventure.

Jongdae laughs out loud, boisterous and pleasant on Baekhyun’s ears, and even out of the corner of Baekhyun’s eye, he can see him flushed red. In the end, he doesn’t hold back, immediately diving into the first verse with all the confidence a rockstar should have. Baekhyun rolls down his window, air rushing in and wind blowing through their hair as the bass reverberates throughout the car and the electric guitar takes over. Rock music bursts from every speaker and out onto the unsuspecting passing neighborhoods. Baekhyun takes on the next verse with ease, words engraved in his memory from the nights he’s spent up jamming out to them instead of doing his homework.

When the chorus hits, the both of them are at it, voices blending seamlessly together, a harmony of high and low notes with the drums to back it all up. The cool air of the rushing wind against Baekhyun’s skin only spurs him on, only kicks up his adrenaline even more as he rhythmically taps his fingers on the steering wheel. Jongdae does the same with his jean-clad thighs, eyes shut as he starts every verse with a new kind of laugh.

When the bridge rolls around, Baekhyun prepares himself for the high note he knows is coming, and belts it out at the top of his lungs with Jongdae doing the same. It’s like lightning bolts are pulsing through his veins when he does; it’s never like this when he does all of this alone.

They’re out of breath after, Baekhyun running his hands through his hair and swiping it away from his face.

_”Whoo,”_ Baekhyun exhales, trying to collect whatever breath he has left.

“I missed you, man,” Jongdade huffs with a laugh, throwing his head back against the headrest.

Baekhyun blinks, not having expected that. He smiles, a strange warmth spreading through him.

“Missed you too, Dae.”

An hour later, Jongdae’s already fallen asleep in the passenger seat with his head against the window, leaving Baekhyun alone in his thoughts with one of Uprising’s soft rock ballads droning in the background.

_I missed you, man._

Baekhyun didn’t want to linger on that, was never the sort to linger on anything at all, and he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it either. Even despite that, the single comment had Baekhyun realize just how lonely he’d been the past few years. It brought him back to middle school, briefly, when they spent all their time together playing video games and catching up on the latest garage bands, despite having just come back from their classical piano lessons.

The thought still makes his lip curl up in fond memory. How they’d meet up after their consecutive rehearsals and pop in a rock tape on Jongdae’s stereo even while still dressed in their best. Baekhyun’s parents didn’t care much what they listened to, but Jongdae’s were a little more strict on the matter.

They felt like two completely different worlds sometimes, he and Jongdae — adjacent to each other, but still opposite.

He did miss him. It wasn’t as if they’d stopped being friends, or never saw each other anymore. They saw each other plenty, but it wasn’t the same. They were different people in different places and now that they’re here, it feels like they’re one again. Every other factor is thrown out of the window and Baekhyun feels thrusted back into a past where he didn’t have to care about what anyone else thought of him besides his very best friend.

It’s freeing.

Baekhyun asked before, back at his graduation, how they had managed to pull different crowds upon entering high school. Jongdae had said it was because Baekhyun liked sports, and Jongdae didn’t. While that rang true, Baekhyun knows the real reason.

It was because Baekhyun was easily swayed by popular opinion, by wanting so badly to fit into the box people hand to you.

And Jongdae was not.

It’s near midnight, moon high in the sky over the twenty-four-hour diner they decide to stop at, just off the highway. Jongdae has his qualms about stopping at a place like this at such a late hour, but after Baekhyun’s comment that he’ll _protect_ him, he merely rolls his eyes and strolls into the diner with newfound confidence.

“I just want a milkshake,” Baekhyun tells the waitress once they’re seated at the pink leathered stools by the counter. There’s a soft hum of faint jukebox music in the background, along with the quiet hiss of foods frying in the back kitchen.

“Don’t you need to eat something?” Jongdae asks.

“If I eat, I’ll just get tired.”

“Then I can drive,” Jongdae says, after he orders a burger and the waitress walks off. “Or we can stop for the night, you know. The beach isn’t going anywhere.”

“Stop where?”

“Motel?” Jongdae offers, like it’s obvious. “We can splurge for the first night. We’ll struggle later.”

Baekhyun snorts, resting his cheek in his palm as he realizes how truly tired he is after the day’s drive. “A _live now, stress later_ kind of guy. Should have known.”

“Says the guy who impulsively went on a road trip with no planning whatsoever.”

“Fair,” Baekhyun says with a lilt of a smile as Jongdae laughs in victory, but pats his shoulder in sympathy.

So then Jongdae orders a burger for Baekhyun as well, no cheese, once they agree to find a motel later. They make small talk over the hum of music and the quiet chatter of the waitress and the cook through the little opening between the kitchen and the front. Besides them, there are only two others here, a couple who sits in the corner booth conversing quietly to themselves as they dine.

The bright lights, the quiet drone of music, the ripped leather of the stools — it gives Baekhyun a sort of hazy feeling, a quiet thrill. The knowledge that he’s far from his hometown — as far as he’s ever been, anyway — makes him feel like he’s doing something wrong, even if all he’s done is step outside a few boundaries.

“We should have some type of destination, or goal here,” Jongdae says when their food arrives, two plates of burgers and fries being slid their way. “Something to work towards while we do this, you know?”

“I’ve never really been a destination type of guy,” Baekhyun says, cheek still in his palm as he picks at his fries. “The journey’s enough for me.”

“You can have both and enjoy them the same,” Jongdae says. “It would be nice to reach some place, clap our hands off, look out onto the setting sun, and bathe in the warmth of our success, don’t you agree?”

Baekhyun merely shrugs, shoving an entire fry in his mouth. “It’s all the same to me, really.”

He can’t bring himself to meet Jongdae’s eyes for some reason. It’s as if he already knows what he’ll find there. Frustration, maybe, at Baekhyun’s apathy, cynicism. Disappointment, surely.

“Well,” comes Jongdae’s lowered tone, which only proves Baekhyun right, “what about that stargazing festival you always used to talk about?”

Baekhyun blinks in surprise, mid-fry. _Always_ was a bit of a reach. _Always_ implies he talks about it up until today, but he hasn’t. Not since they were thirteen.

“Remember that, huh?” Baekhyun says as he unfreezes, munching on his fry with an ironic smile.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Jongdae says. He hasn’t touched his food yet. “It’s coming up in a few weeks, isn’t it? We can take our time on the road, head in that direction.”

“You’re willing to stay out here for a few weeks with me?” Baekhyun chuckles in disbelief as he finally lifts his head to meet Jongdae’s eyes. He feels strangely vulnerable all of a sudden, like Jongdae can see all of him, all of the thoughts jumping around his sleep-scattered brain.

He stuffs more fries in his mouth as a distraction.

“Well, sure,” Jongdae says, with a vague shrug. “Not like I’m doing much this summer anyway, besides band stuff, and I already told you how much they all need a break from it. And the way you talked about those stars when we were kids — how you loved it the first time your parents took you, how the stars there were the brightest you’d ever seen, how it felt like you were floating away from earth — you were so passionate about it.”

Baekhyun swallows in apprehension, that vulnerability increasing by tenfold. He swirls his fry absently in his milkshake now. “I haven’t really thought about it for a while, to be honest,” Baekhyun says. “The hype’s died down. I was a kid, man. S’just some stars.”

There’s a brief silence over the two of them that seems longer to Baekhyun than it probably actually is, before Jongdae speaks up with a new determination about him.

“Okay,” he says. “If not for you, then for me.”

Baekhyun raises a brow. “Really? You want to go there?’

“Sure,” he says. “I like the stars.”

Jongdae rests his left arm on the counter and pulls his sleeve up, revealing the bands of tattoos wrapped around his forearm. There’s one in particular that stands out, the one he probably means to highlight. It’s a constellation, decorated across his skin, shaped into what looks to be a jagged design of a lightning bolt.

“Woah,” Baekhyun says. “When did you get that one done?”

“A few months ago,” he says, running a thumb over it. “It’s _Uprising’s_ logo. I’m a firm believer in the power of the stars, Baek. The galaxy. The universe. Fate, and all that.”

“You are _such_ a musician,” Baekhyun laughs.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jongdae asks with widened, offended eyes.

Baekhyun simply pats the top of Jongdae’s palm in the assurance that he need not know.

“Alright, man,” he says, his laughter dying on his lips, even if the smile remains. “To the festival it is.”

Jongdae grins in victory, eyes glinting. “Guess you can be a destination type of guy then, huh?” he says.

“Only if the destination’s as far away from home as possible,” Baekhyun says. “So, fuck, you know. Space, I guess.”

Jongdae hums, bright. He finally picks up his burger.

“‘Course,” he says, “We’ll get you far, far away from there.”

They decide to stop at a motel just a few blocks down from the diner. There are a few businesses around, a laundromat besides it, a small downtown area just some minutes away, so there’s nothing that should deter them away.

Baekhyun’s just leaving the bathroom after a shower, rubbing a towel through his hair, when he comes back to an empty room. Jongdae’s suitcase is thrown open, some of his clothes thrown across his bed, but most notably, his guitar case is slung open, his guitar itself missing.

Baekhyun wonders if he’s down making friends in the communal area of the motel with that guitar of his, and decides to go down and check on him after he dries his hair. He’s tired, and his eyes are getting heavier and heavier by the second, but he decides road trips aren’t meant for sleeping anyway.

When he opens the door to leave, however, Jongdae’s sitting on the railing that lines the balcony. It’s wide enough to hold his weight as his back leans against the beam and his leg is thrown across the cement surface, the other leg dangling in the air. His guitar, of course, is wrapped around him, nestled comfortably against his thigh.

The noise of the door opening has garnered his attention. He throws a smile towards Baekhyun, who, for a moment, is stunned by the poetic nature of the way Jongdae looks with the light of the moon haloing around his head, framing him almost, with a faint scattering of stars outlining his form.

“Hey,” Baekhyun says, ruffling up his damp hair. “I take it you aren’t afraid of heights.”

Jongdae hums, smile still stretched across his face. “Maybe I’m just feeling awfully brave tonight,” he says, absentmindedly strumming a few chords.

Baekhyun comes to rest against the opposite side of the beam that Jongdae leans against, folding his arms against the railing.

“Your hair’s down,” Jongdae says, even if Baekhyun is out of his sight.

“Hm? Yeah. I showered,” Baekhyun says.

“I haven’t seen it down in a long time,” Jongdae says. “It makes you look. Not as edgy as you like to look, smudged eyeliner and all.”

Baekhyun snorts. “What does that mean?”

Jongdae shifts on the other side of the beam, probably shrugging. “Makes you look a little softer, is all I mean.”

“Not even I can maintain a perfect badass image all day,” Baekhyun muses. “My bare face and natural hair make me look younger.”

Jongdae’s twinkling laughter sounds from the other end. Again, it’s pleasant on Baekhyun’s ear, like he wants to tell a million jokes to keep Jongdae laughing.

“It’s not a bad thing. I like your grunge look, don’t get me wrong. But I like it down too. You look…like a marshmallow,” he says, chuckling. “The badass image is overrated.”

Baekhyun narrows his eyes and leans forward to look around the beam, regarding Jongdae with doubt. “Coming from a rockstar?” he teases, side-eying him with a small smirk.

“Especially coming from a rockstar.” His brows lift high to make a point, eyes bright as they meet Baekhyun’s.

Baekhyun swipes at his bangs, suddenly hyper-aware of his hair. “Thanks, I guess. I have no one to impress on a road trip so I suppose saving some of my hairspray and gel would be nice.”

“Good, you don’t need them,” Jongdae says. “And by _them_, I mean whoever you’re trying to impress with hairspray and gel. You look good but just do it for yourself, man.”

The words _you look good_ slide off of Baekhyun’s mind, falling away into the pit of things he won’t allow himself to linger on. He shrugs, bottom lip jutting out. “The mass, I guess,” he says. “What are you doing out here anyway? Thought you’d be downstairs.”

“I wanted to see the sky,” Jongdae says. “People are always sayin’ the countryside is where the stars are the brightest, but that’s a fuckin’ lie if I’d ever heard one.”

Baekhyun looks up into the sky on instinct, and although there were a few glimmers here and there, it’s certainly no more special than city sky.

“Maybe we just caught it on an off night,” Baekhyun jokes, then peers his head around to regard Jongdae again, who’s still picking at the strings of his guitar. “You practicing?”

“Just a bit of improvised songwriting,” he says. “Nothing that’s meant for writing down. Just for me, and whoever might want to hear.”

“I want to hear.”

Jongdae picks his head up, providing Baekhyun an opportunity to smile at him in the assurance that, yes, he does want to hear whatever melodies are running rampant in that mind of his. Will always want to. Wants to see how they translate out into the real world, how they translate through Jongdae’s fingertips and onto the strings.

It’s been a while since he’d _really_ heard Jongdae play. In high school, he would catch glimpses of Jongdae with his friends, at lunch, or sitting on the edge of the fountain, playing their instruments or creating beats with their improvised drums (usually always their thighs or the surface of the picnic table.) But it’s been a while since he sat with him. Since he listened to him, truly listened.

When Jongdae starts playing though, it feels like not a minute has passed since the last time they sat together and _sang_. Though neither of them sing now, there’s still the same sort of magic there was five years ago, that quiet understanding between them.

_Dangerous_, the word flashes again in Baekhyun’s mind with spotlights shining down on it, alarms disrupting his newfound peace of mind to remind him that this is _dangerous_.

Baekhyun thinks that maybe, deep down, he’d proposed the road trip in order to spend some last time with his friend before he leaves, goes overseas in a few weeks The fact that Jongdae knows nothing of it yet is sick, in his mind, and yet, Baekhyun finds himself digging a deeper hole for himself. With every inch he digs into the dirt, it gets harder and harder to try and climb out.

“You’ve gotten so good,” Baekhyun chuckles. “I’ve always wanted to hear you play one of your songs live — post rock band. I tried to keep track of your shows actually, see which of them I could make it. It never worked out though, or — if it did, I’d chicken out.”

“It’s fine, Byun,” Jongdae says, as Baekhyun takes note of the casual use of his surname. It feels a little bitter, but at least the alarms going off in his head stop. It’s better this way anyway, for them to keep this uncomfortable distance that’s been placed between them so that no one gets hurt in the end.

“It would have been good of me to support you every now and then,” Baekhyun says.

“You have my tape,” Jongdae smiles reassuringly at him. “That’s supporting me. Besides, friends get busy and lose sight of each other, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s life.”

He’s back to strumming at his guitar again, a light, easy-to-listen-to melody. There’s a contemplative expression on his face this time though, eyes clouded.

“Anyway, we’re here now,” Jongdae continues. “I feel like I’m getting to know you all over again. I mean, outside of the Byun Baekhyun everyone knew in high school. Soccer star, huge fuckin’ flirt, a guy’s guy. It’s funny. Even through all of that, I still saw the middle schooler Baekhyun I’ve always known. I’m just seeing him in clarity this time.”

“It changed me,” Baekhyun admits, but with a breezy laugh. “High school. Didn’t change you though. That shit’s tougher than people think, and it’s not even just about the schoolwork. It didn’t change you though. I’ve always held respect to you for that.”

“I don’t think of it so much as change as I think of it as growing up,” Jongdae says. “You just grew up, Byun. Not to say I didn’t, but hey. People grow up in different ways.”

He glances up then, smiles at him.

“You still sing like you used to?” Jongdae asks.

“Sing?” Baekhyun echoes, scoffing a bit at the thought. “I haven’t really sang since we were thirteen.”

“Shame,” Jongdae says, his lips twitching up as his eyes go warm. “You had a beautiful voice. Still do, I’m sure.”

Baekhyun laughs once more, keeps it light between them, keeps this banter, all to keep the sirens away and all to keep himself from looking Jongdae in his eyes that have gone so, _so_ warm and achingly tender.

“You flirtin’ with me, Kim?” he snickers, teasing.

Jongdae only hums, that faint smile still on his face as he picks his head up to look Baekhyun right in the eyes, unwavering. “Ironic that you get it five years later.”

Baekhyun blinks. Reels. The sirens are about to go off again, he knows it.

“What?”

“I had the biggest fuckin’ crush on you when we were thirteen,” Jongdae says. “Thought I was obvious, but you never said anything. Thought you were trying to let me down easy, or avoid having to deal with it altogether, but came to the conclusion that you were just oblivious as hell.”

There’s a knot in Baekhyun’s throat. No sirens, no _’dangerous’_ flashing in his head, just stunned silence. Maybe that’s worse. There’s nothing in the way to stop Baekhyun.

“You liked me?” he says. Not teasing. Not a jab. An innocent question, a little curious. A little scared.

“Mhm,” Jongdae says absently, casually. His guitar picks up in a mild melody as he leans his head back against the beam to angle his face up towards the sky where the light of the moon can hit him in all the right ways. “I shut it down quick though. Friends don’t like each other like that, do they, I thought. Well. I’m older now and I say, fuck that, that’s where all the best love starts from. Friendship.”

The knot in Baekhyun’s throat thickens as he looks away out onto the motel parking lot, blinking rapidly in confusion at the way this night has played out.

“_That_ was me flirting, by the way,” Jongdae tacks on with a sly smile.

The words’ meaning don’t really register with Baekhyun until Jongdae’s twisting his waist to hop off the flat of the railing, stepping onto the concrete landing with a dull thud. It snaps Baekhyun out of the muddled confusion that was just starting to fog up all of his logic and reason.

“We should sleep,” Jongdae says. “Need an early start for tomorrow.”

“Right,” Baekhyun says, his response much more of a reflex than actual thought put into it, for his mind is elsewhere, lingering, struggling to catch up to the present second. “We should sleep.”

Jongdae swings his guitar off of himself before he sends Baekhyun the smallest yet most comforting smile, heading back inside their room. Baekhyun, still leaning against the railing, finally manages to come back to reality even if he is still a little foggy.

“Flirting,” he mumbles, with a bit of an ironic laugh and a shake of his head before following Jongdae inside.

So much for the early start. Ten minutes later, the small television is on and they’re lounged comfortably across their beds, Baekhyun laying upside down with his head hanging off the end as he watches, while Jongdae is sideways, the side of his face smashed against the pillow. They make light conversation over the drone of the television, comments on the plot or Baekhyun begging Jongdae to change the channel when MTV plays Madonna for the thousandth time. To which Jongdae tsks, because Madonna is simply not reason to change channels.

It’s the longest he’s spent with Jongdae in years, their range of proximity usually never being beyond the school bleachers. The same quiet thrill he had at the diner runs through him again as he glances sideways at Jongdae, laying on his side with his arm perched up to hold his head. He’s in his cotton pajamas, and his hair is ruffled. A mess, really. Sticking up in different directions from the shower he’d taken. But Baekhyun likes it.

Then Jongdae notices, must have felt eyes on him as he looks back Baekhyun’s way too, amused. “What?” he asks, hand shooting up to his mouth. “Do I still have toothpaste on me?”

“No, no, don’t worry,” Baekhyun laughs, muffling himself by burying half of his face into his pillow. “I’m just glad you came along, that’s all.”

Jongdae hums, that content smile on his face. “You don’t wish you’d asked Kyungsoo? Or your other friends?”

“Nah,” Baekhyun shrugs. “I love them but — I don’t know. With you, it’s different.”

_Dangerous._

Jongdae’s smile softens from teasing to genuine then.

“I’m glad I came along too, man.”

A beat of silence passes between them where neither of them look away, before Baekhyun clears his throat and breaks the eye contact by sitting up in his bed. The chill from before lingers.

“We should sleep,” he says. “Early start, remember?”

“Right,” Jongdae chuckles, although his voice is shaky.

Baekhyun sorts out his pillows and tucks himself into the blankets before reaching towards the nightstand, where the lamp is.

“Hey, Byun.”

“Yeah?” he says.

Jongdae smiles one more time that night, burying himself in his blankets as he looks across the space between their beds.

“You should start singing again.”

Singing was not even something Baekhyun had thought about over the past four years, was not anything he thought could get him anywhere, since he had never been extraordinary at it when he was younger. Just average, just normal.

“I’ll consider it, man,” he says with a returning smile, watching as Jongdae nods in satisfaction.

He switches the light off only then, shuffles around in his bed, and goes to sleep.

_Crush_.

_Dangerous_.

What Baekhyun had on Jongdae was not a crush. At least not a normal one.

It happened sometime in between their tenth and eleventh years of school, which was extraordinary, considering these were the years they talked the least, the years they barely even saw each other.

Not that Jongdae knows about this, but Baekhyun _has_ seen him perform live with his band.

He thinks, however, that it all started a week earlier.

He had sat at his bedroom desk, forehead pressed against the surface and grumbles from his mouth, directed at a problem on his homework he couldn’t understand. As a measure of procrastination, Baekhyun dug into his school bag when he remembered he’d bought a mixtape from someone selling a bunch in their garage — someone Baekhyun knew to be friends with Jongdae. When he’d seen the word _Uprising_ scrawled across the tape in red marker, he knew then, that this must be his band’s work.

He popped the tape into his stereo, turned up the volume, and lost himself in Jongdae’s music.

It was easy to.

It was the first time he’d heard Jongdae singing over actual _recorded_ music, the first time he’d heard his band’s music at all. He had heard him sing acoustic plenty times before, heard him sing his old songs back when they were thirteen and fourteen, but he never heard him like this. There was an energy to his vocals that rumbled through Baekhyun, that made him feel alive on that night. He started off tapping his pencil on his desk to the beat of the drums, but then by the end of the night, he’d jumped onto his bed and mimed playing an electric guitar until his mother came up to ask him to quiet down.

And when he did, when he sat back down at his desk, rested his cheek on the cool surface, that’s when it all hit him, how proud he was that he got to listen to Jongdae’s music at all. That Jongdae had taken his advice from so long ago and started a band, pursued music. His lip had twitched up in memory of Baekhyun begging, _pleading_ with Jongdae to pursue music after he’d heard a guitar demo of one of the songs he’d written, a ballad.

A ballad which he hadn’t heard in a few years. Not until it started playing next on the stereo.

He lifted his head in surprise then, blinking at the stereo and unsure if he was even hearing right. It had been upgraded, obviously, but everything was still there — the soothing melody, the guitar, Jongdae’s pure vocals.

And of course, the sweet lyrics about a first love.

He swallowed hard then, blinking back tears and surprised at himself for even getting emotional. It had been years since they properly spoke, besides the passing greetings in the hall, if they even got that much. It had been years since he’d last heard this song, and he felt a rush of guilt at the time for not being as present in this beginning of Jongdae’s music career as he would have liked to be.

As with the tears in his eyes, there was a swell of his heart too. Just as there was the first time he’d heard the song.

Truthfully, it wasn’t the song that was doing all of this to him. It was him. His voice. The way it melted him, the way his emotional range had Baekhyun wanting to tuck himself into his bed and curl up for the rest of the night. It was healing. It was like Jongdae was right beside him, telling him things were going to be alright.

Although he loved the song, loved the lyrics, it was _Jongdae’s voice_, causing a confusing little flutter in Baekhyun’s heart. Who would have ever thought?

These feelings in him weren’t cemented until Baekhyun snuck his way into a venue one time to see them perform live. He stood somewhere in the back, behind the crowds gathering. He was excited, not just to see them perform, but to greet Jongdae after the show and tell him how proud of him he was that he’d gotten here.

When Baekhyun looks back on this night now, it’s blurry to him. There is no specific sequence of events he can recall, there was no passing of time, really. It’s all registered in his memory as only a _feeling_, a strong one. He would call it something like a dream, hazy. A dream he would have hated to wake up from, even if he knew he had to eventually.

All he can properly remember from that night is the feelings stirring in him whenever Jongdae brought that microphone to his lips, whenever the top of his lip brushed against it slightly, whenever his voice rang throughout the room, drowning out the muffled chatter of people too oblivious to pay attention to the man up front.

His voice was like a spell on him.

It was the first time Baekhyun watched him perform in front of a crowd. Anyone with eyes could see he was in his element, up on that stage. There was nothing more beautiful than watching Jongdae do what he loved the most.

It’s only then that Baekhyun thought this was a long time coming, anyway. That maybe it started way back then, back when they were practically kids. He was just too young to know what it was, to understand what it meant.

That night, he didn’t greet Jongdae after his performance like he had wanted to. He left the venue shortly after his band’s performance ended. There was something stirring in him he didn’t want to directly address, and he was afraid that if he saw Jongdae like that — sweaty from his performance, glowing in the aftermath of a dream lived out — he may have done something stupid. Something like kiss that upper lip, like the microphone had.

Those were the days they talked the least anyways, the days they were the busiest, much too busy to keep up with each other. Baekhyun fell in silence, but it was just a feeling, he figured. Feelings that would fade with time. They never really faded, but they did hide away. Baekhyun tucked them in a pocket of his heart so that he would not have to deal with it outright, because, as said so wisely by a certain someone this past night, friends don’t like each other like that, do they? Granted, Jongdae was more of a stranger than a friend in those days, but it all meant the same.

Until now — because that certain someone was right again. The best love starts with friendship.

Anyway, what Baekhyun had on Jongdae was not a crush. It didn’t — _feel_ like a crush, to him, at the time. At least not a normal one.

It wasn’t the kind of crush that formed when you see a pretty person in the school hall on a bright Monday morning. It wasn’t the kind of crush that needed to be pursued, wasn’t the kind that turned into a puppy love where the object of affection was on your mind all day. It was a simple rush of affection and adoration, but felt deeper, deep in the pit of Baekhun’s essence, a sort of longing feeling, maybe a little bit lonely. It’s like he was realizing something that night, as the crowd blurred around him and all the lights seemed to turn towards Jongdae and Baekhyun and cast a path of lights that connected them, like a constellation.

Baekhyun would still call this feeling falling, but not in love. Not yet. He doesn’t have a name for it just yet, isn’t sure what to call this falling sensation that somehow feels simultaneously not as serious as a crush, and yet, far more important than one.

Maybe it’s just that, then. Just falling, like a star — aimless, hoping to crash somewhere.

Despite their promises to rise with an _early start_, they stay in bed until eleven. Jongdae’s the first to wake at eight, but upon Baekhyun’s refusal to budge out of bed, he turns the television on to a morning sitcom and climbs back into his blankets. They lounge around in their ruffled pajamas and tousled hair for a few more hours before finally forcing themselves out of the room when it’s time to check out.

Neither of them bother with their appearances. Baekhyun forgoes the eyeliner entirely and leaves his hair sticking up in all sorts of ways. Jongdae, as he climbs into the driver’s seat, has even still got his pajama bottoms on, the sight making Baekhyun snicker. They’re getting into the true spirit of a road trip, it seems.

The quiet thrill he felt the night before is nowhere to be seen now, replaced by a hazy lethargy as Baekhyun rests his head on the glass window, eyes stuck to the blur of passing trees and billboards. Jongdae, infuriatingly humble, listens to the radio instead of _Uprising’s_ tape. Granted, it’d been on repeat the day before when Baekhyun had driven. If he had it his way, it’d be on repeat today too, and he’d be belting his lungs out.

After last night though, he’d be a little self-conscious.

Baekhyun can sing along just fine to _Uprising’s_ music, but he has never truly _sang_ He can yell verses and choruses when the energy in the car is high, but he has yet to make room for himself to _try_ to sound good.

So he does that, after they have lunch, and after Baekhyun’s taken over the wheel, and after Jongdae falls asleep. So Baekhyun has nothing to be afraid of then, nothing to be embarrassed about.

He’s out of practice, obviously, so it all feels strange, holding a note, using his voice in ways other than screaming directions to his teammates on a field. He starts off quietly at first, unsure. Just mumbles under his breath. The song playing on the radio is a popular one, having been played for weeks straight. It was so common that Baekhyun is sure he knows all of the words by now, and he proves it by singing them under his breath as he drives past cattle on the highway.

By the time the second chorus rolls around, he’s reached a more reasonable volume. The song reaches its crescendo with the bridge, and that’s when Baekhyun lets himself sing, and truly sing.

There is something so freeing about this, something so burden-lifting, like the barriers he has trapped himself into have lifted and he is free to do whatever, be whatever. He sounds better than he thought he would, almost pleasant, but it’s no where he’d _like_ to be.

When the song ends, he finds himself a little embarrassed but satisfied nonetheless. A quick side glance at Jongdae shows he’s still asleep, and Baekhyun wonders how many times this guy takes naps in the middle of the day.

It’s about four in the afternoon by the time they pull up onto the outlook. Plenty of people know about the lake and the beach along its shore, but only few know about the surface of the cliff above, a flat terrain above a deep incline that reaches out over the lake. Baekhyun owes his knowledge of it to Jongdae and his older brother, from way back when they’d come here with the latter’s friends.

Jongdae stretches with a yawn as Baekhyun puts the car into park, flatbed facing the edge of the cliff and the lake. The air is cool to the skin despite the sun being high in the sky with no obstructions, just a sheer blue sky above the flat of the sparkling lake.

Baekhyun holds out a hand over his eyes to shield them from the searing sun. He looks out onto the familiar view, the lake flanked on either side by woods.

“It’s been years since I’ve been here,” he says, the sound of rocks crunching under Jongdae’s shoes as he joins him.

“I miss it,” Jongdae says. “You remember cliff diving here?”

“As if I would ever forget,” Baekhyun says. “Most terrifying experience of my life.”

Jongdae laughs. “We’re just a few feet from the edge of the cliff, Byun. You don’t want to relive it?”

“Hell no,” Baekhyun assures, raising both his hands with his palms faced towards Jongdae. “I was a lot more brave at thirteen and even then I nearly wet myself by the time I hit the water.”

“My brother teased you so much about it,” Jongdae snickers.

“Still hate him for that,” Baekhyun says. “You never teased me though. You were the only one who made me feel better.”

“Always here for you,” Jongdae says, but in a breezy tone, raising his fist. Baekhyun, rolling his eyes, bumps it, as Jongdae steps forward. The closer he gets to the cliff, the higher Baekhyun’s panic meter rises.

“Your bandmate said to keep you away from cliffs, yet here I am bringing you to one,” Baekhyun says as the nervousness upon seeing Jongdae approach the ledge brings back that Sunday morning they left.

Jongdae chuckles, deep and amused. His pajama bottoms drag against the rocky ground as he shuffles forward. “I can’t promise I won’t fall off. Besides, even if I do, you can take my place in the band.”

Baekhyun scoffs. “You’re funny.”

“Hypothetical fall-induced deaths aside, I’m serious, man,” Jongdae says, back now facing the sun and the lake to emphasize his point. “Plus, there’s no one else I’d rather trust with the band.”

Baekhyun only purses his lips in response. Jongdae’s likely saying all of this because of his love for their music, but Baekhyun thinks Jongdae’s irreplaceable no matter what he says. He can’t imagine anyone singing in Jongdae’s place, can’t imagine anyone even reaching a fraction of the talent Jongdae holds in his pinky.

“Being here again brings me back to those summers,” Baekhyun says suddenly, eyes going out over the ledge of the cliff again, “when your brother would come back from college and corrupt us.”

Jongdae chuckles again, this time the sound a low rumble down Baekhyun’s spine. “Corrupt,” he repeats with a faint smile on his face. “He was such a bad influence. We were good little piano boys. My parents tried so hard to get me to be the complete opposite of him, but the more they pushed, the more I found my brother’s way of living better.”

“It wasn’t like he ever did anything truly bad,” Baekhyun points out. “Looking back at it now, we’re no better. He was just being a teenager. Never even gave us alcohol when we asked. All he did was take us places and buy us junk food.”

“And had us diving off of cliffs,” Jongdae says with a nostalgic smile. “Remember that time he used us to distract the security guards at the carnival so that he and his friends could sneak in without paying?”

Baekhyun huffs. “Oh, yeah. I change my mind. I hate him. He didn’t even get us the cotton candy he promised he would if we helped.”

“The devastation of sitting against those fences all night waiting for it and seeing them walk out without it,” Jongdae shuts his eyes and shakes his head like he’s reliving the horrible memory.

“How is he now, anyway?” Baekhyun asks.

“Oh, he’s engaged, can you believe it? And has a one-year-old! He’s out on the coast with his family for the summer. Close to the island where the festival is, actually. Maybe we can make a stop there and he can see what delinquents he influenced us to be.”

“Oh boy,” Baekhyun says with a hint of a smile. “Does he know you _barely_ graduated after a whole year of skipping classes?”

“That wasn’t even so much delinquent behavior as it was….looking-for-a-peace-of-mind behavior. But it’ll be easier to have him think the former, anyway.”

Baekhyun means to ask what he means by that, but finds the words lost in his mouth when Jongdae is suddenly pulling his t-shirt over his head.

“Uh, wh-what are you doing?”

“The cliff is twenty feet, if I remember right,” Jongdae says, wrapping his shirt up into a ball and throwing it somewhere behind them, where the truck is. “Really not that tall, I think that’s a low considered among people who do this a lot.”

“You’re going to _jump_?” Baekhyun exclaims. “I know we were all joking but you really should stay away from the cliff—”

“I told you, you can cover for me,” Jongdae grins, cheeky, eyes filled with playfulness. “Unless you want to join me. I’m sure my bandmates can fend for themselves.”

Baekhyun won’t lie, the thought is tempting. The sun is hot against them and swimming in a lake sounds like a dream right now. It’s the jumping he’s worried about, even if he’s done it before.

“Hey, but you don’t have to,” Jongdae says. “Only if you really want to, okay, man?”

He must have seen the mild panic in Baekhyun’s eyes, because now he’s smiling at Baekhyun in the reassurance that he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to. Jongdae removes his pajama bottoms last, tossing them in his clothes pile before stretching his arms. Baekhyun watches the muscles flex in his back, observes the slope of his shoulders down to his small waist above his boxers before looking away.

Jongdae turns back towards the edge of the cliff, peering over the edge as best as he can from his distance. He turns his head back towards Baekhyun as he shoots him a small smile. It's disarming, this view of the sun haloing around Jongdae's pretty face and pretty smile, like a scene from a movie. Like Jongdae is the definition of a first love.

"See you on the other side," he says, before winking when his smile turns playful. "Maybe."

And with no other warning, he's making a run for the edge of the cliff. Baekhyun moves forward on instinct with him, jogging close enough to see him leap off. His arms swing wildly as he soars down, while all the meanwhile, Baekhyun's heart pounds rapidly and thunderously watching him go. He's a mere Jongdae-shaped silhouette as he plummets down, until he disappears into the water with a thunderous splash. The silver-blue water ripples around his form, and Baekhyun doesn't breathe for the whole five seconds it takes for him to resurface.

He does though, eventually, and he does so with a giant grin on his face that even Baekhyun can see from this far up. Jongdae wipes the wet hair away from his face and looks up at Baekhyun with bright eyes that might as well have taken the sun's place in the sky.

"Oh man!" Jongdae calls out. "The water feels amazing. You sure you don't want a taste of this, Byun?"

After the initial shock and fear wears off, Baekhyun feels something thrumming under his skin, like a little jolt of electricity humming quietly, waiting for Baekhyun to give it permission to pulse through his entire body.

He _wants_ to, he knows he does. As terrifying as it had been before, it was adrenaline-inducing, and it made him feel alive. Isn't that what he came on this trip for?

And aren't the best things also the most terrifying?

He bites his bottom lip, watching Jongdae float on his back below, before his words echo through his head again.

_"See you on the other side."_

So he disappears from the edge of the cliff and backs away, but just to pull his t-shirt off before he can change his mind. He hears Jongdae whine somewhere below, complaining about where Baekhyun had disappeared to. To shut him up, and to have him realize what Baekhyun's up to, Baekhyun throws his shirt over the edge of the cliff. It earns a mighty cheer from Jongdae, who makes a point splashing the water around him.

"You got this, man!" he calls. "I'll catch you."

As dumb a remark as it is, it makes Baekhyun laugh and therefore makes the violent thrumming under his skin calm down a little. It feels good. This feeling. He doesn't feel afraid anymore, not really. It's not fear. It's a welcome feeling. One he hasn't felt in a long time.

He takes in a deep breath before unbuttoning his jeans and sliding out of them, tossing them somewhere behind him.

He recalls what Jongdae's older brother told him the first time.

_Jump straight. Exhale when you hit the water. Pointed toes._

He looks at the sun as best as he can. Imagines running into it. Takes another deep breath. Looks at the horizon of the lake. Imagines what the water will feel like when his feet make contact. Will hurt like hell, he’s sure. He's ready for it. Embraces it.

He's not really thinking anything else once he takes that first running step towards the edge.

The journey down is a series of sweeping motions in his stomach, brief feelings of panic fluttering in his chest, and a buzz throughout his entire body as gravity takes him and pulls him into the lake.

As he’d expected, it hurts like hell, water sharp as knives as he hits it.

_"Fuck."_

"Right?" he hears Jongdae laugh somewhere around him, too preoccupied with swiping the water away from his face to see where he is. He finally gets all his hair — completely damp now — out of the way and registers Jongdae swimming in his direction, grin on his face.

“I can’t believe you actually did it.”

Baekhyun hacks out water from his throat. “That felt like way more than twenty feet.”

“But it feels good, right?”

Baekhyun blinks the rest of the water out of his eyes and swipes his hair back to keep it out of his face, floating some distance away from Jongdae, who looks at him hopefully.

“It feels amazing,” he admits, earning another bright grin.

Jongdae floats on his back, eyes closed, bathing in the sun. Baekhyun watches him for a while before a thought worms its way into his head. He wades over quietly, as cautious as he can be, and takes the opportunity to splash him.

He waves about in the water at the sudden attack and, when he recollects himself enough, glares at Baekhyun accusingly.

All before splashing him right back.

It feels good, makes Baekhyun feel a little younger again to mess about in the water like children. Jongdae swears and Baekhyun yells and swims away from him — which fails, because he’d forgotten how much better of a swimmer Jongdae is.

When the sun is a little lower in the sky, they’re back to wading quietly in the water, Baekhyun diving in and out and relishing in the feel of it against his skin when he remembers something.

“I wanted to ask you, before you made your crazy jump into the water,” Baekhyun says. “What did you mean when you said skipping classes was more about...peace of mind?”

Jongdae shrugs, pulling his mouth to one side before he answers. “A lot of people see me and my bike, me and my tattoos, my electric guitar, and they think I want to be _bad_ for the sake of being bad. That’s not it, that’s not it. I just like my bike. I just happen to like tattoos, I just happen to like rock. I didn’t...skip class just to be a rebel, like so many people think. I don’t know, I just got...tired of it all. I already knew I wasn’t going to college, even if that’s what people expect of you. I figured why waste that time going to classes?”

Jongdae goes back to floating on his back, eyes clouded in contemplation.

“I’ll do enough to graduate, sure. I’ve got enough education to get by, but I want to chase my own passions.”

“Music,” Baekhyun says, and Jongdae smiles.

“Yeah,” he says. “Music. Remember what I told you, back at the beginning of our last year? When you said you weren’t sure whether you wanted to go to school or not?”

“Of course,” Baekhyun says, mouth suddenly feeling a bit dry. “There’s no set formula for happiness. Yours doesn’t involve college, or school, and that’s fine. and if someone else’s does, then that’s fine too. Whatever it takes to make you happy, man.”

Jongdae side-glances at Baekhyun again, shooting him a small smile. “Right,” he says.

Baekhyun does remember very clearly what Jongdae said to him at the beginning of the past school year. He’d said the exact same thing to him, except for Baekhyun — it was about school, about _going_ to college after all this, about how it was what he wanted to do more than anything.

And Jongdae had encouraged him. Told him the same thing.

_Whatever it takes to make you happy._

“When it comes down to it,” Jongdae says, “your happiness is the most important thing. You need to do whatever you can to preserve that, as long as you aren’t hurting anyone else in the process.

“Because happiness is borrowed,” Jongdae says, “Temporary. I can't be happy without being sad at the same time, knowing it’s temporary, like I’ve stolen it from someone else and have to give it back. It’s always tainted with that single thought.”

“Why are you wasting time worrying about the future when you need to live in the _now_ and the happiness you feel _now?_” Baekhyun says. “Of course it’s temporary but that’s what makes it great, man. You can’t have happiness without sadness, without hard times. It sucks, yeah. Plus, you get the memory too, you know. The added bonus of getting to look back on it all and bask in how great it was.”

Jongdae hums, before repositioning himself in the water and wading closer to Baekhyun.

“I like this memory,” he says. “You’ll scold me for already looking towards the future, but I’ll like looking back on it.”

Baekhyun narrows his eyes, playfully splashes water onto him again as Jongdae laughs and tries his best to avoid the attack. “No thinking. Just swimming.”

It comes easy to Baekhyun to say this, to convince Jongdae of this, when all he _does_ is avoid thinking about the future.

It was Jongdae, after all, who convinced Baekhyun to go after what he wanted, to make plans to leave town after summer and seek his passions elsewhere.

Some time later, when the sky has darkened, Baekhyun’s made a sort of makeshift sofa at the bed of his truck with their blankets. He’s pushed all of his and Jongdae’s belongings against the back, giving them room to sit on the edge. Jongdae gets comfortable immediately, lounging against the improvised bench with a wistful smile on he watches the lowering sun and the calm waters. Baekhyun’s beside him, sitting sideways so that his shoes are closest to Jongdae, and he hums along to the radio playing from inside the truck.

“Would it make us idiots to sleep here tonight?” Baekhyun asks. “Or should we start lookin’ for a place to crash?”

“Sleep here? With the woods behind us? Sleeping here with no protection is just asking for something to come out and eat you ‘till you’re all bone.”

“This coming from the guy who jumped off the cliff with no hesitation?”

“Cliff diving was fun, not scary,” Jongdae says.

“We should get moving then, before the sun sets and it gets dark.”

“Isn’t that what we’re here for though? Spent all this time here and you want to leave before getting to see the sunset?”

“Aren’t you worried about getting eaten, or something?”

“Well, yeah, but we could leave after the sun sets,” Jongdae says. “If we don’t make it in time, I’ll just offer you up to the man-eating bears in exchange for getting to leave with all of my limbs.”

“It’s my truck, you know, I could leave you stranded here.”

“Baekhyun_nieeeee_, I was only joking,” Jongdae sings in apology. Baekhyun laughs, lightly shoving him with his knee. Jongdae grabs his leg before he can make the attack and drags it out so that Baekhyun’s legs are stretched across his lap. He wraps his arms around them, settles his weight onto them so that Baekhyun can’t do anything more. Baekhyun only laughs, doesn’t bother fighting against him, because he won’t lie — he likes the feeling of resting his legs on Jongdae’s lap, especially when Jongdae soon lets up and simply rests his hands there.

They’re quiet between them now, evening wind chilly as their eyes stick to the sun lowering towards the horizon.

“Look at her go,” Jongdae says, voice soft, amazed. Eyes glazed in adoration. Mouth parted in awe. His hair blows with the wind, tiny baby strands flying everywhere. When his lips pull up into a smile, it has Baekhyun’s heart beat just a little bit faster.

It’s safe to say Baekhyun isn’t watching the sunset anymore.

And now, he can’t help but think towards the future too, about how this is a memory he’ll like looking back on too.

Baekhyun realizes only now how much of a small-town boy cliche he’d been his entire life. He rarely left the confines of his comfortable and much too safe town, much too conservative. The furthest he’d ever gone was a few miles out of town, and that was only to compete at another school.

He had never given it much thought anyway, never had time to. He was unknowingly content where he was, whether it be out on the field or in his bedroom with his headphones as he flipped through a comic book. It was all he needed at the time, but then again, what did he know? It was all he ever even _knew_.

It gets to be a bit suffocating though, the longer he’d confined himself there. He understands now, that the little tight feeling in his chest towards the latter years of high school was something in himself begging to get out, to step out of this routine and try something new.

And now, being out on the open road with nothing but an expanse of trees and open field and an endless highway, he never realized what freedom could mean until there’s an overabundance of fast food at his will.

The morning after the cliffside, Baekhyun rouses Jongdae awake early by tossing a pillow at him, then by pulling at his sheets when Jongdae protests in a mixture of grumbles. There’s something special running in his veins today, something that makes him feel _light_ and makes him feel as if he’s standing at the edge of the world, despite having just woken up in a small worn motel off the side of the highway.

Jongdae does wake up eventually, sitting in his bed for a solid minute with sleepy eyes, looking around in confusion. Baekhyun makes an excuse to leave and start the truck to keep from those alarms in his head from going off again.

Baekhyun, who appears to be in too far good of a mood to let Jongdae get away with sleeping even more after an eleven-hour sleep, puts on some Uprising in the car and sings along with all the passion and heart that he’s already felt in his blood and soul the last few hours. Jongdae pretends to be annoyed, pretends to be irritated, but there’s an indulgent smile on his face as Baekhyun soars down the highway, chanting the very lyrics Jongdae himself wrote about giving life all that you’ve got to give it.

So no, he never realized what freedom could mean, not until now, not until he was back with his best friend and singing rock songs at nine in the morning on the road where no one can hear them promise life that it hasn’t seen half of what they’ve got, not yet.

It’s just before noon when Baekhyun pulls into a gas station, Jongdae’s laughter dying down from a very exaggerated take on a high note. In Baekhyun’s defense, it shouldn’t be humanly possible to reach that high of a note anyway.

In the convenience store, he grabs the brand of chips Jongdae requested, along with two bottles of coke for the both of them. He hums the entire time, the exact song that had been playing in the truck before he shut the engine off.

“Good day, huh?” the cashier says when Baekhyun takes his items to check out. He might have picked up some extra bags of chips and snack cakes along the way.

Baekhyun stops mid-humming to blink in surprise, before a grin widens on his face. “Something like that,” he says, pulling out his wallet. “Been out on the road with my best friend for a few days.”’

The words _best friend_ come out unexpectedly, but Baekhyun likes the way they feel, like it’s always going to be this way.

“Keep that sort of energy up,” the cashier says, a small smile gracing his own face. “These days, your youth — they don’t last forever, and they go by faster than you’ll believe.”

“Feel like mine’s just started,” Baekhyun says, handing him several dollar bills to cover for the food and gas.

The next few days go by in a blur, a series of motels and parking lots and gas stations. As they promised before, they take their time, since the festival wasn’t until about a week away. Their languid driving, maybe about five miles under the speed limit, is cause for many impatient drivers, but as they drive past with a passive-aggressive roar of the engine, Baekhyun and Jongdae can only cheer, still jamming along to the radio.

On the fourth day, Baekhyun _finally_ convinces Jongdae to stop on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere so that he can get a proper view of the horses.

On the fifth day, they spend half of their day at a gas station, sitting outside on the picnic table it provides and losing themselves in time, and ice cream sandwich bars. Another quarter of the day is spent walking around the camping sites in the area, barely touching on the trails before deciding to turn back lest they want their trip to turn into a horror movie. They come across the wreckage of a train as well, curiosity winning over themselves as they explore around the area, discovering nothing but patches of what looks to be fabrics of fur. The amount of history in the places around here keep them wanting to explore more, until the sun begins to set and they know they’ve got to be on their way.

On the sixth day, or night, they soar down an empty highway at midnight, across bridges and lakes and fields, with nothing but the moon and silver street lights alongside them. The quiet thrill is back in Baekhyun’s veins, jittery, but exciting, like something’s sparking him back to life.

On the seventh day of their trip, they stop at a small, but busy, town off the highway. It seemed like a town straight out of history, for their buildings were old and worn but beautiful, vines growing all along the walls and wrapping around windows. Jongdae and Baekhyun seat themselves on the streets, on the sidewalk just outside of a drive-in movie center, with Jongdae’s guitar and case, slung open onto the cement so passersby can drop in a coin or two if they liked them enough.

They’ve chosen to cut back on motel costs, sleeping in a parking lot one night, or driving for an entire night the next. Baekhyun had chosen to drive that time, on his insistence, so it happened that he and Jongdae were on different schedules now.

Today, he’s tired and hungry, as he leans his head against the window. It’s just about eight in the morning, he estimates without looking at the clock. When you’re driving all night with the only company you’ve got asleep the entire time, the only thing you can really do is count the seconds until they turn into minutes, into hours.

Jongdae’s just taken over the wheel some half an hour ago. The radio is playing a soft him of a romantic song that only lulls Baekhyun further into drowsiness, were it not for Jongdae’s soft crooning. It’s not that it was loud enough to disturb Baekhyun into staying awake; it’s just that it was beautiful enough to have Baekhyun _want_ to stay awake to hear it.

His crooning stops after the third song, silence following over the static of the radio as they reach a non-serviced area. Baekhyun feels his eyes begin to drift shut then, overwhelmed with sleep.

“Hey,” Jongdae says suddenly, causing Baekhyun’s eyes to blink slowly back open. He makes a hum of acknowledgment, the effort to lift his head and face Jongdae too much to even think about at the moment.

“Are you hungry? Jongdae continues. His tone is warm, Baekhyun thinks; it could be a song all on its own.

Baekhyun hums again, but follows it with comprehensible words this time. “Ravenous,” he says, “but I’m not really in the mood for gas station hot dogs.”

Jongdae chuckles, low and amused. Even half-asleep, Baekhyun feels it affect him to his very core.

“No gas station hot dogs,” Jongdae says. “I think we’ve been doing good with money. There’s a farmer’s market at the next exit.”

Baekhyun perks up, lifting his head and narrowing his eyes through the glass to see just where they are. No difference, it all looks the same; tall grass and billowing trees and passing billboards of fast food deals. He trusts Jongdae though, and turns to peek at him instead.

“Seriously?” he asks. His voice lilts in hope at the thought of something like the skin of a cherry breaking in his mouth, juice gushing.

Jongdae nods, that slight smile on his face, as always. “Mhm,” he says. “We can stop, if you want.”

“God, yes.”

The market is a series of vendors under an orange canopy, all set up off of the side of the road. Jongdae and Baekhyun park on the grass with the rest of the cars, hit with the all natural smell of fruit and vegetables the moment they step out of the car.

They idle around the vendors, looking over their products and bumping shoulders. Most of them are older women, but there are some younger as well, even a child at one stand, and a bearded, tattooed man at another.

The array of colors has Baekhyun’s mouth watering, and even if — truthfully — he had never been big on fruits _or_ vegetables, you sort of crave for them when you’re starving and tired and have been out on the road for a week. They purchase probably one too many things for two boys on a tight road-trip-budget, but Baekhyun chooses to stress over that later.

“Wish we came here later,” Jongdae says some time after, when they’ve found a spot on a grassy hill nearby to lounge across. The truck’s with them, parked by the shady tree they’re sitting under.

“Imagine the stars _here_. Authentic country, right?”

"I'm tired of stars," Baekhyun deadpans.

"Are you kidding me? You say this when we're on a way to a festival? About _stars?_"

Baekhyun laughs at Jongdae's bewildered tone and raised brows. He plucks another grape from their basket and pops it into his mouth. "I'll welcome it when we get there, obviously. For now, though," he says, "I really just like the sun."

He bathes in it, feels it on his skin as he lays back in the grass with his arms behind his head. It hasn't hit noon yet, so the sun isn't at its peak and there are still remnants of the early morning chill lingering in the air around them.

"Where have you been the past four years to forget what the stars look like and what the sun feels like?" Jongdae teases.

Baekhyun chuckles under his breath, the grape seed playing around on his tongue until he catches it between his teeth. "I told you I needed this, man. All I know of the sun is how fuckin' hot it beat down on the team during practices. Spent years hatin' it and now I get to know what it feels like to love it again."

"And all it took was a little fruit," Jongdae says.

Baekhyun senses he's teasing him again, the way Baekhyun will take the simple pleasures and turn them into a bigger deal than it might be.

So he throws a grape at him.

Jongdae laughs as he deflects it. "What a waste," he mourns the grape as it rolls away in the grass. "I'll tell you, Byun, I don't think I ever met anyone who sounds like they hated their high school years as much as you do. Which is ironic, considering you looked like you love them -- at the time, at least."

"I didn't hate them," Baekhyun says. "I mean it. I had fun. I don't regret a single thing. I just -- I hate what it cost me, that's all."

Jongdae squints at him, corner of his lip quirked up as if he’s going to say something, like how he doubts that, but he ends up not saying anything, preferring instead to eat another strawberry. Baekhyun is grateful for it, but at the same time, maybe Jongdae should have said something, because the second the words came out, his mouth tasted bitter, like that wasn’t quite the truth.

“Well,” Baekhyun says, chewing on it for a while, “I guess I do regret one thing.”

“And what’s that?” Jongdae asks.

Baekhyun shields his eyes from the sun as he turns Jongdae’s way, narrowing his eyes.

“Not keeping in touch with you.”

Jongdae’s chewing slows as the words seem to process through his mind, before he’s smiling and shrugging, but in an ironic way.

“Be real, Byun,” he says. “If we’d have stayed as close as friends as we were when were twelve and thirteen, you’d probably wouldn’t have gotten everything else that made your years in high school as fun as they were.”

“And why does that have to be, huh?” Baekhyun asks, sitting up with a sudden defiance about him. “It wasn’t like you were _unpopular_. Why couldn’t I have both my best friend and everything else?”

“I wasn’t, in your words, _unpopular_,” Jongdae says. “But we were involved in very different crowds, you know that. They just don’t fuse, those cliques. It would have been odd for you to be seen with me. Didn’t you say your friends wonder why the fuck you still hang around me?”

“Well, yeah,” Baekhyun says, “but who cares what they think?”

“We did, the first two years of high school,” Jongdae says, shrugging. “It just works like that, high school. It’s no one’s fault, you know. There’s nothing worth crying over now, because you know what? You know how I see it? I see it as despite the many reasons we shouldn’t have stayed friends — we did, anyway. Sure, there was that quiet period in between tenth and eleventh year, but we caught back up, didn’t we? Sat on the bleachers after school and snuck alcohol onto the campus and smoked and drank and talked shit about our teachers and our friends and told each other stuff we couldn’t tell anyone else. I don’t know about you but that’s nothing to regret.”

Baekhyun muses over this, absentmindedly peeling the skin off his grape. Yeah, it was true, they were still here after all this time, and that on its own must mean something.

“You shouldn’t live with any regrets,” Jongdae says. “Everything happens for a reason.”

“I know. I just wish I’d spent more time with you then. If it’s at the expense of some of the people who wouldn’t understand, well then, that’s just good riddance.”

Jongdae chuckles, eyes bright and cheeks a natural pink under the sun. He reaches forward then, to push some of Baekhyun’s hair back into place, swiping at his bangs.

“You’re sweet,” he says, but barely audible, under his breath. “Unless of course, this is all just your way of saying that you wished you’d stayed so that you could have joined the band. All you need to do is ask, man.”

Jongdae laughs as Baekhyun merely rolls his eyes, the air around them loosening again and diffusing into something light.

“You wish you had me in your band,” Baekhyun says.

“Please,” Jongdae says. “You’d steal the spotlight immediately. The hearts you’d steal! That’s my job. I’d let you in for the good of the band though, despite the fact that you’d steal my role.”

“Just for the good of the band, huh?” Baekhyun teases, cherry stem fiddling in between his teeth.

“Yeah,” Jongdae says, although his smile is softer now and lacks the edge it had before. “For the good of the band.”

Baekhyun can’t help but to smile back, pulling the cherry stem out of his mouth and suddenly feeling a bit flustered, looking away.

“I practiced a bit, before,” Baekhyun says. “Singing, I mean. When you were asleep in the car.”

Jongdae hums, lips stretching into an airy smile. “I know.”

“You _know?”_

“I was awake,” Jongdae chuckles. “And I was right, you know.”

“About what?”

“It’s still as beautiful as before,” he says. “Your voice.”

Baekhyun is struck silent, doesn't know what to say, especially because any and all traces of teasing and joking is gone from Jongdae's smile and all that's left is a humble warmth that heats Baekhyun's nape.

"Hang on," Jongdae says suddenly, scrambling up to dig around the back of the truck. He pulls out his guitar, wrapping the strap around his back before he takes his place back sitting somewhere near where Baekhyun's head rests in the grass.

"Let's hear it, Dragonfly," Jongdae grins.

"Jongdae, come on, I'm so out of practice--"

"Stop being humble, just sing, man."

"It's embarrassing, not in front of _you_\--"

Jongdae quirks a brow just as Baekhyun realizes what he's let slipped, and he fidgets, feels heat in his nape again. This time, it creeps up into his neck and cheeks.

"What's that supposed to mean, _not in front of me?_" Jongdae teases.

Baekhyun swallows around the lump in his throat. "You know... because you're a really good singer and all. Anyone can see that. Or you know... hear it. It's embarrassing to sing in front of someone who's practically mastered it."

"Mastered," Jongdae snorts. "I have so much to learn still. Wanna teach me?"

Baekhyun practically chokes. "God, you really have no idea, do you?"

"No, mind telling me?" Jongdae grins, an inviting sparkle in his eyes.

"You're the best damn singer I ever heard, happy?" Baekhyun says all in one breath. "Obviously your music's good and your band's great, but...if we're being honest, you're the star. You're the reason people come to your shows. Your singing is -- it's more than singing, you have a presence on stage that's unmatchable. You _demand_ attention, but without even meaning to. It's just the kind of aura, the kind of power your singing has. The kind you have."

Jongdae blinks. "You've seen me live?"

Shit.

"Just once," Baekhyun says. "Two years ago, maybe. It was -- it was when we weren't talking much. I didn't want to bother you backstage so I didn't stop by and say hi."

"Why'd you say you've never seen me live then?"

Because with the memory comes feelings Baekhyun was never prepared for, feelings that Baekhyun can’t reveal _now_.

"Didn't want you to think I was rude for not saying hi," he says simply, shrugging.

"You know I don't get hurt by things like that, c'mon," Jongdae says. "Even if I would have loved to see you backstage. It’s just nice to know you did come to one of my shows."

He smiles in comfort, and Baekhyun can’t tell if the sun and heat is making his cheeks pinker or if something _else_ is making his cheeks pinker or if Baekhyun is just delusional and imagining it all.

“So you really think all that about my voice?” Jongdae asks, smile turning teasing.

“So what, I’m sure everyone does,” Baekhyun says, but it doesn’t help his case further. His tones are hardened, but his cheeks are flushed, and it’s a dead giveaway.

Jongdae's smile is indulgent, but he doesn't tease Baekhyun about it any further. Only clears his throat, readjusts his guitar, and starts up a melody.

It's an Uprising song. The same song Baekhyun had been singing to himself (or so he thought) in the car a few days ago. Baekhyun doesn't have an excuse then, because he knows these words, and _Jongdae_ knows he knows these words.

He can't help but laugh at the little expectant smile Jongdae sends him. It's by pure accident when he misses the start off to the song, so Jongdae sends him a pointed look as he has to start the song over again. It all gives Baekhyun a very warm, cozy feeling in his chest, this intimacy between them, the closeness of Baekhyun's head to Jongdae's lap. If he were to shift just a few inches, he would be able to rest his head there.

He doesn't miss the start off this time. He sings the lyrics he knows by heart, all while avoiding Jongdae's gaze and keeping his eyes on the grass that suddenly appear to be quite entertaining. He fidgets with a blade in between his fingers too, doing whatever it takes to keep from reminding himself that Jongdae is hearing him - properly - sing for the first time in several years. A lot has changed since they last sang together; one of them became the lead vocalist in a band and the other, well, Baekhyun will simply say he had no plans for singing in his foreseeable future.

Even so, he can't deny there was a joy to it, a sort of happiness and glow it brought to him that nothing else could. It's not to say it made him happiest, not to say it was a thing that could bring him the most joy -- just that it was a different kind of happy, a different kind of happiness than the one he gets from the soccer field or from friends.

After a while, they stop taking it so seriously and Baekhyun lets himself have fun with it, throwing his head this way and that as he loses himself in the song, breezy smile on his face as Jongdae's laughter rings in the background too.

"You still got it," Jongdae says after he strums the finishing chords. "Didn't doubt you for a second."

"Kind of alarming to have the lead vocalist of _Uprising_ compliment my very out-of-practice singing."

"But I'm not just the lead vocalist of _Uprising_ to you," Jongdae says, shrugging and setting his guitar aside. "Give yourself credit, Dragonfly, you were born to make music. You still play the piano?"

"I haven't touched one in years," Baekhyun says with a shake of his head. "You?"

"Not much, since I switched to guitar. Piano was always more for you, anyway."

Baekhyun scoffs in disbelief, staring at Jongdae like he's grown two extra heads. "What do you mean? You were way better than me."

"No fuckin' way, man. You were a natural. I was bare minimum, and I didn't really care for it all that much, anyway. I was forced into lessons, remember? You actually liked them."

Baekhyun lowers his head to snicker, thinking of how prim and proper — on the outside — Jongdae was when they first met, outside of a classroom. He wore a suit, and sat up as straight as a ruler. Now here he is, draped across the grass with a guitar in his hands, holes in the denim of his jeans.

"I did like them, I'll give you that," Baekhyun says. "I don't think I was as great as you say, but--"

"Who knew the school's soccer prince could be so humbly wrong?" Jongdae says with a laugh. "You're arrogant about all the wrong things, Byun. Soccer — sure, you're good at it. But music, you were _great_."

"We were thirteen, Kim. You sure you're remembering right?"

"Come on now," Jongdae says, still picking at his strings. "I can't forget anything when it comes to you."

Baekhyun opens his mouth to try and deny it all even more, until the words properly process in his head and everything he wanted to argue back all fades into nonexistence, replaced by yet another haze that turns his brain into flustered mush.

He clears his throat, looks away at the distant road where cars rush past. "Hey," he says, his glance going from the road, to the sky, and the field all around them, even back down to the orange canopy where the farmer's market stands. "You wanna stay here for a bit? This town, I mean. For a few days, or something. We have time, right?"

Jongdae raises a brow, a knowing smile on his face. "You like how sweet the old ladies at the market were on you, didn't you?"

"Well, you gotta admit it's nice to be taken care of for once," Baekhyun says, as Jongdae's laugh twinkles over the wind. "But honestly, I like this place. It's quiet. And if we keep on the road, we'll get there too fast anyway and be at your brother's place a week before the festival."

"And the fruit here is really good," Jongdae dutifully tacks on.

"Yeah," Baekhyun agrees with a bright smile, popping the last grape in his mouth, "and the fruit's really good."

Jongdae grins before handing Baekhyun a small crate of blueberries upon seeing his batch of grapes empty. "And you could use the extra sleep, I'm sure."

"Sleeping in a _bed_, how heavenly to even think about!" Baekhyun practically roars, earning a fit of laughter from Jongdae as some of his blueberries go flying over their laps from Baekhyun's overdramatic and extravagant flailing of his arms.

"We can stay, Baek," Jongdae says. "I like this place too. It's got a charm. Nothing like our hometown."

"Precisely why I like it."

Jongdae huffs, ironic smile on his face. "Wish we didn't have to go back eventually."

"Would you stay out on the road forever if you could?" Baekhyun asks. There's an unsaid extension there, lingering on the tip of his tongue. _Would stay out on the road forever, with me?_

Somehow, it seems to be understood anyway, if the look in Jongdae's eyes means anything at all. It's softened down, his face relaxed and smile indulgent, if unsure.

"I would," he says.

It's the closest Baekhyun's gotten this afternoon to just scooting that last couple of inches between them and resting his head in Jongdae's lap. He wonders what it'd be like to have his fingers running through his hair, the same fingers that can work wonders with melodies on a guitar. He wonders how it'd feel to look up and see not the blue sky, but Jongdae's blooming smile and sparkling eyes, and to get a smile back from him too.

He doesn't scoot those last couple of inches, in the end. Can't, shouldn't. All he does is tear his eyes away from Jongdae's, leans back to rest against his forearm on the grass again, and pops another blueberry in his mouth.

It was the kind of crush that you don't feel the need to pursue anyway, he convinced himself for the hundredth time. It felt like that for so long, and he's been telling himself this for so long, but now, something in him feels like its wavering the more time he spends with Jongdae.

The same something that keeps wondering what it would be like to fall asleep in Jongdae's lap.

It's only barely striking him how truly tired he is, how his lower back aches with exhaustion and how hooded his eyes are no matter how much he wants to keep them open, to watch as the clouds go by. It's likely the lethargy of the clouds going by that is pushing him further into sleep in the first place, along with the slight strum of a new song coming from Jongdae's guitar. He must have picked it up again, settled it into his lap like Baekhyun had wanted to do with himself.

It's when he's halfway asleep does he begin to lose sight of what is a dream and what isn't. He loses his sight in the blurring clouds and feels as if he's floating among them. Feels as if the wind that brushes against his arms and legs and through his hair is the wind that gently encourages him along in the endless sky. Jongdae's song is a melody that wraps around him and relaxes him, his pleased and content humming a soundtrack to Baekhyun's dreams.

Confusion hits him like a brick when he wakes up sometime later to an orange sky. He blinks twice before he opens his eyes to an early evening, the chill in the air a giveaway. When he sits up, the jacket that's been lain across his chest slides down just a bit. Baekhyun realizes — with a flush of his cheeks — that it's Jongdae's jacket. The black nylon is unmistakable.

Jongdae himself is where he was the last Baekhyun had seen him, except he's laying now with an arm under his head and his knee up, eyes shut. Baekhyun wonders how long it'd taken him to fall asleep after himself, wonders if he'd gotten bored waiting for Baekhyun to wake up, wonders _when_ he took off his own jacket to place it on Baekhyun instead. He was shivering now, with the evening chill and wind.

Baekhyun pulls the jacket off of himself to place it across Jongdae instead, then gently nudges him awake. "Jongdae," he says. "We've been here for hours."

Jongdae only responds in a muffled noise, brows furrowing for just a second before they smooth out again as he lulls back into sleep.

It takes a few more minutes, a few more insistent nudges, but eventually, Jongdae lets Baekhyun sit him up. They rise to gather their things as the sun gets closer to the horizon, the sky darkening with it.

They find a motel nearby soon enough, and although it's only eight, Baekhyun throws himself onto his bed immediately, arms spread like a star.

"Rest up," Jongdae says with a chuckle. "I think I'm going to explore for a bit. See what's around here, and maybe bring back some food for us to eat."

There's a lightness, a delicateness to his tone that has Baekhyun warm from the inside it. It's nurturing, comforting, just like the rest of Jongdae and his entire existence.

Baekhyun watches as he shrugs on the jacket from earlier. It was the beginning of summer, but the wind was still chilly from spring, and when Baekhyun had woken up to Jongdae's jacket placed on him just half an hour before, he had felt enveloped by the overwhelming scent of Jongdae and summer and the remnants of spring all in one.

And briefly, an invasive thought fluttered in his mind: that is what it must feel like to rest his head in Jongdae's lap, or at least, it is some illusion of it. He would still like to know how it _physically_ feels.

It's then that Baekhyun realizes the weight that had been dropped onto his shoulders on the day of his graduation seems to have ease over the past few days, over the past week. There was a constant adrenaline within him, that longed for more of this feeling that had begun to unravel in him. This...this sense of _adventure_ he's gotten a taste of, this sensation of freedom. Maybe this is why he finds he's not as tired as he should have been, because there's this buzz of energy that rumbles through him since they'd woken up on that grassy hill.

A buzz of energy that most certainly won't be satisfied by sitting in a motel room. Baekhyun has had his two feet on the ground all his life, but all he wants to do now is reach his arms up into the sky a bit, feel the clouds there drift through the space between his fingers.

"Why don't we both just go for a ride?" Baekhyun asks Jongdae from across the room, sitting up on his bed with a new determination about him. There's a fire in him now.

"You're not tired?" Jongdae asks.

"I'm on the night schedule now, you know that. And now you are too, since you slept alongside me on that hill."

Jongdae smiles like he tries to hold it back but fails, a mirth in his eyes that already tells Baekhyun he's going to say yes.

"Did you have a destination in mind or did you just want to waste gas?"

Baekhyun's grin only widens.

"Now I thought I told you I wasn't a destination sort of guy."

Jongdae takes the wheel, Baekhyun sitting in the passenger seat. They had no clue _where_ they were going, had no clue what to even do, but all of the possibilities and unknown excited Baekhyun even more, who was so used to the expected and routine.

"Shall we check out what their downtown looks like?" Jongdae offers, starting the engine.

"If that's what you so desire," Baekhyun says back in the same sort of tone, grinning from ear to ear and earning one back from Jongdae before they pull off into the street.

There was still an edge of dark purple to the sky from where the sun set,

Baekhyun perches his chin on the edge of the open window, taking in the sights, the way the moon -- just now coming out -- reflects on all of it, all of the passing buildings and people and cars.

Then, Baekhyun gets an idea.

He unbuckles himself, starts to stand to the best of his ability in the small truck, faintly registering Jongdae's noises of confusion beside him. He opens the small window in the back of the truck that leads out to the back, and looks out, wondering if there's space for him with all the blankets and pillows in the way. He'll make space, he decides.

He climbs then, using his feet to kick himself up onto seats and then to squeeze himself through until his head is outside, then his chest, down to his hips and waist and legs. He swings one leg out, onto the stable bed, surrounded by the duffel bags and items they didn't bother to take into the motel. The rickety road underneath the truck shakes the entire vehicle as Baekhyun struggles to find ground.

Eventually he takes a seat near the edge, throwing an arm over the side of the truck and looking back on the road as Jongdae drives past, the wind blowing restlessly through his hair.

"Comfy?" he hears Jongdae yell, barely audible through the wind rushing. He cannot help the smile on his face, can't help as it grows when he thinks about how much this is all he really needs.

"Plenty," Baekhyun shouts back, briefly meeting Jongdae's eyes through the window and being greeted with his smile before Jongdae turns back to face the road. He's slowed down a bit, just a tad, to accommodate for Baekhyun in the back.

They drive through the countryside first, past fields and farms and the very hill they had been to earlier. Houses come into view, large elegant ones with enormous yards and small packed ones with dogs tied to the trees in the front yard. They drive past pastures and fields with horses lazing, they drive past the farmer’s market, now closed for the evening, the vendors having gone home for the night. Soon enough there are street lights lined along the road, golden and lighting their way. Baekhyun watches as they cast streams of light onto the truck, onto them, as they rush past. He tilts his head up as if to bathe in them.

The streetlights lead them into a small city, where buildings are lined up all along the road. Some are abandoned, boarded up, but the others, the exciting, are lit up in colors that draw Baekhyun’s eyes as they fly past. Neon signs, bars with a letter or two hanging onto their sign by just a hinge or a single wire. Even laundromats, the piercing white lights of the interior casting a sickly white glow onto the road. The quiet thrill is back, and this time, Baekhyun embraces it.

He raises his arm, spreads his fingers, feels the air rush between. Then he remembers something, and looks up into the sky.

There’s a scattering of stars, much more than he is used to in their town. They’re clusters of light gathered here and there across the black canvas, and he smiles, because Jongdae was right. The stars here are something to behold.

And he thinks again of Jongdae’s faith in the stars, of his belief in them, in their power and the magic of them. He thinks now that he might be onto something, because Baekhyun feels — now more than ever — electricity buzzing through him, a _magic_ that doesn’t compare to anything else he’s ever felt. He thinks he might be drawing this energy from the stars, drawing it from the moon, like they’re lending it to him for the night, just so he can get a taste of what their freedom feels like.

The soft drone of one of _Uprising’s_ softer songs drifts through the open window. Jongdae must have put the tape in. Baekhyun knows he must have done it for _him_ considering Jongdae’s exaggerated grimace whenever Baekhyun himself puts it on. When Jongdae starts to sing softly under his breath, Baekhyun thinks he’s never quite felt so at peace.

He peeks his head around the truck, just to see what’s up ahead, and sees another neon sign flickering, garnering his attention. It’s a tattoo shop, bricked and sandwiched between a doctor’s office and a rundown hotel.

“Hey,” Baekhyun calls towards Jongdae, a lightbulb flickering on in his head, “pull over right here, will ya?”

“Here?”

Jongdae sidles the car up next to the pavement. Before Jongdae can even put it in park, Baekhyun is grabbing the edge and hoisting himself up and over the edge until he lands firmly on the concrete. Jongdae makes a noise of alarm and parks the car, all while Baekhyun moves to stand in front of the shop.

It’s a small shop, nothing extravagant. The open sign is hanging crooked, there are various designs decorated over the windows. Baekhyun doesn’t need them. He’s got one in mind already.

“Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

Jongdae walks up beside him in confusion, arching a brow. “What? Getting a tattoo?”

Baekhyun hums, before nodding. He turns towards Jongdae, who only smiles gently, sympathetic. Then he raises his arms and pulls the sleeves back, revealing another kind of sleeve — of tattoos. “Do you really think _I_ have the right to tell you if it’s a bad idea?”

“I want one like yours actually,” Baekhyun says, not really thinking as he raises his hand to trace his fingers along Jongdae’s constellation tattoo, follows the jagged lining of the lightning bolt. “A constellation.”

“Thought you were tired of stars,” Jongdae chuckles.

Baekhyun shrugs. “Maybe they’ve grown on me,” he says, glancing up at the clusters of light again. “Maybe I’m starting to believe in the magic of them too.”

He pulls his hand away when the tingle in his fingers pulls him back to reality, now met with Jongdae’s curious expression. It fades just as quick as it came though, and Jongdae’s smile is back as bright as ever.

“You really want to do this?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says, without an ounce of hesitation.

Baekhyun doesn’t get it on his forearm, like Jongdae’s. It was what he thought he’d wanted at first, until he saw the tattoo artist’s impressive array of tattoos decorating her skin, and specifically, the pretty branch of cherry blossoms sprouting on her neck up onto her cheek. He decided then, that the constellation will go across the side of his neck.

The tattoo artist — Jisoo — is sweet and patient as Baekhyun readies himself, tells her exactly what he wants and how he wants it.

She works her magic. Baekhyun probably couldn’t consider himself to be someone who had a high pain tolerance, despite being no stranger to injuries as an athlete, so finding the will to stay still was a bit tough.

Jongdae distracts him though. Baekhyun starts to see a pattern, how he’ll start talking about something trivial when he sees the furrow in Baekhyun’s brow, or when he sees him flinch. He’ll make the dumbest joke, or he’ll randomly start talking about people they knew in high school. Baekhyun knows what he’s doing and he’s grateful for it, manages to smile at him even through the pain.

“How’s it look?”

Baekhyun asks this later as they sit in some late night cafe, the croon of some older singer’s voice wafting throughout the place.

Jongdae thinks on it. Baekhyun can tell he’s juggling between the truth and a kinder lie.

He settles on the truth, apparently.

“Ugly and raw.”

“All in due time,” Baekhyun says. “It’s still got to heal.”

“It actually looks really nice,” Jongdae says, chuckling. “It’ll turn out great, I know it. It suits you, Dragonfly.”

_Dragonfly_. The very shape Baekhyun chose to get his tattoo in. He liked it, liked the meaning behind it, liked what a _dragonfly_ symbolized. Understanding, growth. He didn’t relate much as a child, but now — he knows it must have been meant for him.

Plus, he really likes the undertone of fondness in Jongdae’s voice whenever he calls him that.

Baekhyun smiles, resists the urge to move closer to Jongdae. He just turns to look at him instead under the dim cafe lights. “Thanks for being my inspiration,” he says.

“Now we match,” Jongdae says, raising his arm so that his own tattoo lines up alongside Baekhyun’s. “We could make a whole galaxy.”

Baekhyun momentarily forgets how to breathe with Jongdae’s arm so suddenly close to his neck, a buzz of electricity in the space between his arm and Baekhyun’s neck. .

_With you as the sun?,_ Baekhyun thinks. _Yeah, I agree._

The next night, while Jongdae’s _actually_ out fetching them some food, Baekhyun lounges in their motel room and decides to call up Kyungsoo, to check in, and to assure him that he’s not lost or dead.

“Hello?” comes Kyungsoo’s voice on the other end. Baekhyun realizes only then how much he’s missed him

“Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun greets. “What’s up, man?”

“Baekhyun? You said you’d call me like two days after you left, it’s been a week. Was almost about to file a missing person report.”

“No need,” Baekhyun chuckles, resting his head on his arm. “Sorry, didn’t have the chance to until now. How are you, man? How’s small town life?”

Baekhyun can _hear_ him rolling his eyes.

“Hasn’t changed since you left. I guess you’re living the big dream out in the city or whatever, right?”

“Not really,” Baekhyun chuckles. “I mean, I’m living the big dream, sure. Just not in a city.”

“What are you up to, anyway?”

“Hm… Went cliff-diving. Eating a lot of junk food. Oh, got a tattoo.”

“A _tattoo?_” Kyungsoo echoes in disbelief. “Man, you guys are goin’ all out, huh?”

“It was an impulsive decision, so yeah, I guess so,” Baekhyun laughs.

Baekhyun doesn’t tell him the part where Jongdae has a tattoo that already looks pretty similar. He does, however, decide in the end that he needs some kind of outlet to all of this… _confusion_ he’s been dealing with lately.

“Also,” he starts tentatively when Kyungsoo is quiet on the other end, “Uh…. remember… what I told you about a year ago? About, hm, going to see Jongdae live for the first time?”

“Yeah, I was wondering about that,” Kyungsoo says, missing absolutely nothing. “No way you’re keeping it together after all this time alone with him.”

Baekhyun exhales, noisy and loud and frustrated, running a hand through his hair. “You are absolutely, painfully right, Kyungsoo, and I am hating every single extra _inch_ my heart grows when I’m with him.”

“That bad, huh?” Kyungsoo laughs. “What did you expect? You’ve been alone with him for how long now? Why don’t you just, you know, tell him or something?”

“I can’t, you know that,” Baekhyun says. “It’s too late. When we get back to town, I’ll leave and then...that’ll be it.”

There’s silence on the other end. Baekhyun wonders if Kyungsoo’s even still there.

“Wait,” Kyungsoo says then. “Why does that have to be _it?”_

“What if it doesn’t work out?” Baekhyun says. “What if things between us go wrong and — and I lose him forget the second time. I can’t take that chance, man. And it’ll be hard to fix things because I’ll be all the way across the world.”

“Point made,” Kyungsoo says. “But I wouldn’t say it’s too late, that’s…that’s too final. Give it a chance, yeah? You never know.”

“But—” a sudden noise at the door has Baekhyun jumping in his position, phone almost flinging out of his hand. “I think Jongdae’s back, I gotta go.”

“Wait, but — you’ll talk to him, right—?”

“Uh, maybe — I don’t know, bye, Kyungsoo.”

The door opens just as Baekhyun hangs up, a little too hard. Smiles at Jongdae, a little too forced.

“Hey,” Jongdae says. He’s carrying two brown paper bags. “So you heard me struggling with the door and didn’t bother to open, huh?”

He’s only teasing, mischief flashing in his eyes as he chuckles and sets the bags down. Even still, Baekhyun stumbles over his words, still a bit flustered and overwhelmed at his and Kyungsoo’s conversation.

“Sorry, I was, uh, talking to Kyungsoo, on the phone.”

“Oh,” Jongdae says. “You didn’t have to hang up because of me.”

“No, I know, but I’m — hungry, that’s all. Definitely ready for dinner.”

Jongdae arches a brow at his vaguely strange behavior, before ultimately deciding to shrug it off and offers one of the bags to Baekhyun, grinning.

“Good, because I got _pasta_.”

After that night, most of their time in the town is spent, shamefully, sleeping. Baekhyun takes advantage of the bed as much as possible, despite that same thrum of excitement from the other night still drumming in his veins. He’s got time, he thinks. They got time.

Otherwise, they’re either at the market, at the small cafe across the street from the motel, or at the drive-in movies.

On the last day, Jongdae and Baekhyun take to the streets one more time, borrowing a few crates from the vendors of the farmer’s market to set up a little area for themselves. Jongdae’s brought his guitar,

Baekhyun sings with Jongdae this time too, confidently, surely. Jongdae's sat on an upside down crate, strumming an upbeat melody on his guitar as Baekhyun sits on two of them stacked together, eyes closed in bliss as he belts out a string of lines and notes to a restless sun.

He barely even notices when people pass by, barely even notices as coins drop into the case, as Jongdae thanks them with a grateful nod of his head. His palms tap against his thighs, creating some sort of light beat as he loses himself in the music in a way he hasn't done so in years. Sometimes, his fingers will drum against his thighs too, rhythmically, like he's playing keys to accompany Jongdae's guitar, to accompany their voices harmonizing in a sweet melody together.

He suddenly realizes he can’t wait until the next time he gets to touch a piano, finding his love for music sparked again in the way Jongdae strums his guitar and backs up his vocals with the most striking smile. It is not even the brightest smile he’s seen from Jongdae, but it’s in the way the corners of his lips curl up, and it’s in the way the heat from his eyes pair with it.

As a consequence of being so _affected_ by Jongdae, Baekhyun only loses his breath when he and Jongdae’s eyes meet through it all, and though he keeps it well hidden, it’s hard to hide the flush of his cheeks and rapid beating of his heart. Nothing’s ever felt more right than being here with Jongdae _now_, just like this.

Afterwards, they go through the market again as thanks for allowing them to use their entrance as their setup. Jongdae detaches himself from Baekhyun’s side to talk to the child vendor again. The moment she set eyes on his guitar, she was calling him over and begging for a song.

“Hello again, Baekhyun,” one of the elderly vendors say, her eyes kind as she welcomes him into her stand. It must be odd for them to have two teenagers excited to shop at a farmer’s market, of all places — and for several days in a row.

“Hi,” he greets, bright. “Your blueberries were amazing.”

“I’m glad you think so,” she smiles. “How did you and your sweet boyfriend like the cherries?”

“Oh, he’s — he’s not my boyfriend,” Baekhyun is quick to correct, even if something in him flusters at the idea.

The grandmother is still smiling nonetheless, a knowing sparkle in her eyes as she shrugs. “You could have fooled me,” she says. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen such a connection between two people. The last time being between me and my husband.”

She leans forward to whisper this towards Baekhyun, her smile only widening as Baekhyun feels a hot flush start in his neck and creep upwards into his face.

Before Baekhyun can form a proper response, or even form coherent words, the grandmother is grabbing his hands and placing two grapefruits into them, patting his hands in a motherly nature before chuckling at his _still_ shell-shocked expressions.

“Go on now,” she says. “They’re on the house.”

Reality comes back to Baekhyun upon her generosity. “Oh, no, I can’t do that—I can easily pay—”

“_Go_,” she urges anyway.

Baekhyun thanks her, still flustered, but when he turns and spots Jongdae across the market, half-sitting on a table as he plays a song for the little girl, his heart melts and he forgets what had just happened.

They spend another hour or so there, chatting with the vendors, before sitting up on the hill for yet another hour, before deciding — finally — that it was time to head out.

It’s about noon now, as Baekhyun takes the wheel once everything, every duffel bag and blanket, is back in the truck. He knew somehow that he’d get attached to this place, despite having only spent three days here. There’s a bittersweet feeling growing in his chest, but when Jongdae smiles at him as he climbs into the passenger seat, it all fades away, like everything else does when he’s with Jongdae.

Maybe he was a fool after all, to propose this trip, knowing how it would end, knowing what’s to come. Knowing he was _leaving_ after all of this. Leaving Jongdae _again_.

That’s why he couldn’t do anything, couldn’t act on his feelings as much as he wanted to now despite his _crush_ having never been the type to want to _pursue_, as he so likes to tell himself every single day.

The feeling is back, but this time, it’s all bitter, no sweet.

They don’t stop for the rest of the day except to fill the tank with gas and use the bathroom. It’s nearly eleven at night at this point, although Baekhyun hasn’t grown tired yet and refuses to allow Jongdae to drive. His eyes are drooping _already_, and Baekhyun won’t be the cause for him losing any sleep, not on his watch.

So Jongdae pouts and grumbles something about Baekhyun needing rest too, and climbs back into the passenger seat, his long pajama bottoms dragging behind him.

“Midnight snack?” Jongdae asks, pulling out something from one of the plastic bags at his feet. It’s the two grapefruits from earlier, the ones he’d gotten for free. Only then does he even remember the implications of everything the elderly vendor was saying, and he unconsciously flusters all over again.

It doesn’t help that, after Jongdae peels the grapefruits, he hand feeds Baekhyun while he drives on the moonlit highway, making light conversation about one of the movies they’d seen the day before. His fingertips will brush against Baekhyun’s lips every once in a while, and Baekhyun’s heart will do a little jump in his chest. Meanwhile, Jongdae would continue rattling on about the movie, unaware of what he’s even _doing_ to him.

He falls asleep shortly after, as Baekhyun knew he would. The touch of his fingers still lingers on his lips, and he wonders to himself why these feelings have made themselves known to him now as opposed to before. He could live with them, could live with his crush on Jongdae before, but now it felt overwhelming, like a raging fire in him, only to be tamed by Jongdae himself, by a warm look sent his way, or by a content smile on a mouth so pretty.

And suddenly, Baekhyun sees an alternate timeline, a _what if_ that could have happened if he and Jongdae stayed close friends when starting high school. Maybe his feelings would have turned into affection, to love, and maybe one of them would have confessed around fifteen or sixteen. Maybe they would have started a relationship then. Maybe Baekhyun could have held Jongdae by the waist in the courtyard as they ate lunch, sneaking affectionate glances at each other as others watched and envied what they had. Maybe they could have spent their evenings at each other’s houses, pretending to do homework when really they were throwing around dumb jokes and making the other laugh until their stomach hurt.

Baekhyun sees an innocent first kiss. He sees Jongdae’s fingers weaving into his own. He sees himself at every single one of Jongdae’s shows, supporting him with a thumbs up when Jongdae would look over in his direction when he got on stage. He sees himself falling further and deeper in love when Jongdae sings with his eyes closed — like he always does, because he loses himself in his music, in the way it wraps around him like a blanket on an autumn evening.

The coward in him says it’s too late, that they’ve lost their chance. And it is, really. Maybe if things were different, if Baekhyun weren’t leaving after all of this—

“Where are we?”

Jongdae shuffles besides Baekhyun, groaning and blinking his eyes open.

“We’ve got maybe five hours left until we get to your brother’s,” Baekhyun says, hoping his voice is steady. “Sleep well?”

Jongdae just groans again, rubbing at his eye. Baekhyun glances sideways and notices his hair has gone a mess too, and he has the strongest urge to ruffle it up even more.

“I can’t believe you’re still listening to this,” Jongdae says with a tired chuckle upon realizing Uprising’s tape is still on. It’s one of the ballads again, probably having looped three times since Jongdae fell asleep.

“Like I’ll ever stop,” Baekhyun says with a cheeky grin.

“I need to get you some of our other music when we get home,” Jongdae says, turning his entire body slightly so he faces Baekhyun. He tilts his head and leans it against the headrest, lips curled into a languid smile.

“That would be _amazing_,” Baekhyun says.

Jongdae hums, pleased. “Thanks for the support, Dragonfly,” he says. “It means a whole lot. Coming from you. It really makes me happy to know you like our music.”

Jongdae’s still faced towards him, and Baekhyun fears that if he even chances a glance sideways at him, he may find his heart in such a frenzy that they may end up offroad.

“Your music makes me happy,” Baekhyun says simply, the first thought popping into his head.

Jongdae smiles at him one more time before slowly falling back asleep, eyelashes fanning against his cheeks.

Just as Baekhyun pulls into a motel at around two in the morning, he thinks maybe deep down, he’d proposed this trip to spend some last time with his best friend.

Despite knowing it may hurt them both, in the end, to have to go separate ways again.

Jongdae had been wrong, in all intents and purposes, when he’d said at the beginning of the summer that Baekhyun’s truck wouldn’t make it two miles out of town. It did, in fact, make it plenty more than two miles out of town, which was already a feat on its own.

That, however, proved to be enough for the truck as it sputtered on its last dying breaths a day and a half after leaving the old town, just as Baekhyun pulls into a gas station.

“Know anything about cars?” Baekhyun asks in a tone that’s far too jovial for their current situation. He’s got the hood of his truck up and is fiddling around with the parts in there as if he has any clue what he’s doing.

“Cars? Not a thing,” Jongdae says. “Bikes, sure.”

“They can’t be too different, right?” Baekhyun asks with a hopeful, and sheepish, smile. He only gets a dubious, raised eyebrow in return.

“I’ll take a look anyway,” Jongdae says, before pulling off his jacket and wrapping it around his waist. Baekhyun clears his throat and looks away at the sight of his sleeveless shirt, his upper arms a bit more muscular than he’d ever imagined. _Not_ that he’d imagined.

It’s hard to pretend to ignore anyway when Jongdae sidles himself up next to him in front of the hood, hunching himself over the engine.

“You need a new battery,” Jongdae says after a while, examining the crust around the bolts on the battery. “They get worn after a while, like this, and rust will start to build up and keep it from working. Usually, if you wiggle it a bit, it might work, but this looks to be too far gone to get the truck to move anymore.”

“Okay,” Baekhyun says, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world, casually ignoring how attractive Jongdae is when he knows what he’s talking about. “Let’s get a new battery then.”

“They’re a bit expensive,” Jongdae says. “Not exactly within the budget of two eighteen-year-olds on an extensive road trip across the country. Also, we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

He holds out his arms as if to emphasize it, gesturing to the plainlands around them.

“I don’t think they’d sell batteries in the gas station either,” Jongdae says, “but you know what? I do bet they’d have a telephone we can use. We can call my brother to get us, he’s probably about...two hours out from here.”

“Would he be okay with that?”

Jongdae shrugs. “I’ll just make it sound like we’re dying on the phone,” he says with a laugh. “Starving, thirsty, dying of heat, dear brother, won’t you save us?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Baekhyun chuckles, turning to lean against the hood. “I haven’t seen him in years. Think he’ll remember me?”

“As if he’ll ever forget little Baekhyunnie,” Jongdae chuckles. “He might be a husband and a father now, but don’t be mistaken. He’s still the same troublemaking bad influence he was when we were younger.”

“Does this mean he’ll finally give us alcohol this time?”

Jongdae raises an interested brow. “Maybe you’re on to something, Byun. Just use those puppy eyes of yours on him and he’s sure to give in.”

“_Puppy eyes_,” Baekhyun gapes, blinking in surprise. “I don’t have puppy eyes.”

“You do,” Jongdae says, ruffling his hair a bit with a pleased smile on his face. “They’re cute. Don’t pretend like you haven’t used them on me before.”

Baekhyun gapes, blinking, watching as Jongdae waves at him teasingly before disappearing into the gas station, presumedly to use their telephone.

He sighs in defeat, wondering when this feeling in his heart will start to let up, if it ever will.

Jongdeok picks them up two and a half hours later. It’s late, about ten, and it’ll be even later by the time they return to his place.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite pair of troublemakers,” Jongdeok says as soon as he steps out of his car. “My god, seeing you two together is like being thrown back in the past.”

“Nice to see you too, Jongdeok,” Jongdae rolls his eyes as he moves to start throwing their stuff into Jongdeok’s car. He narrowly avoids Jongdeok’s hand, assumedly going for a good ol’ hair ruffle.

“Little Baekhyunnie isn’t so little anymore, huh?,” Jongdeok says, his attention on him now, chuckling. “Good to see you.”

“You too, man,” Baekhyun says, making a move to help Jongdae. “Heard you’re _engaged_.”

“With a kid!” Jongdeok exclaims, a brightness in his eyes that says it all. “You’ll like them, I think. C’mon, c’mon, we should hurry, it’s late.”

After convincing the manager of the gas station to let them keep the truck parked there until they’re able to come back and get it, they set off down the night road. Jongdeok is as talkative as before, despite it being nearly midnight. There’s an excitable manner to his chatter that’s sweet, as they drive back to his place; Baekhyun never could tell the similarities between Jongdae and his brother before, when they were thirteen, but now, it was easy to see where else he gets the sweet, but mischievous, nature from.

“A fuckin’ _beach house_?” Jongdae says when they arrive.

“Just for the summer,” Jongdeok chuckles, pulling into the parking lot. The house, from where they can see, is just visible over the small hilltop of sand speckled with patches of grass from where it meets the mainland. “There’s some college kids in the house next to us on vacation too, they’re about your age, so you don’t have to worry about spending all your time with this old geezer.”

“You’re not old, Jongdeok,” Baekhyun says, as Jongdae chooses to roll his eyes in response instead.

“Looking at you guys together like this, all grown, definitely makes me feel old,” Jongdeok says with a wistful look in his eyes. He puts the car into park, before opening his door. “We’ll get the rest of your luggage tomorrow, just grab what you need for tonight, yeah? Oh, and be careful heading inside, the family’s probably asleep.”

Baekhyun grabs a towel, a set of clothes, and his toothbrush before following Jongdae and his brother over the gentle hill, where they can get a full look at the house.

"Oh, also," Jongdeok whispers back at them, "we've only got one guest room, so maybe one of you could take the couch. Or I mean, you could share the bed too, I'm sure it's big enough for the both of you."

A little spark of panic jolts down Baekhyun's spine as he parts his mouth to respond, but with what, he isn't sure yet. He glances at Jongdae instead, who seems to be looking for an answer in Baekhyun as well.

"Uh," Jongdae starts, stuttering towards Baekhyun, "The couch is fine with me, but also, I'm not...opposed to sharing?"

"You're not sleeping on the couch in your own brother's home," Baekhyun argues back, now easily finding the words. "I can."

"_You're_ not sleeping on the couch," Jongdae argues back. "I'm fine with sharing if you are?"

Baekhyun doesn't want to make a big deal out of it, because it shouldn't be. "I'm fine too," he relents.

"Good, didn't want to worry about one of you sleeping on the couch. It's not very comfortable. It's like, wood or something."

Jongdeok chuckles a bit before he leads them into the house and up the stairs, to the room closest on the left. It's a decent size, just a bed and a drawer with a window on the far end that looks out onto the rest of the beach.

"Get comfortable," Jongdeok says. "We'll do all the formal introductions tomorrow morning, yeah?"

"Can't wait to meet the little one," Jongdae says. "Night, Jongdeok."

"Thanks for picking us up."

"No problem," Jongdeok says. "And we'll get your truck tomorrow, okay? Get a battery for it and everything too."

"You're a lifesaver," Baekhyun says. "Way more useful than your brother."

Jongdeok chuckles as he leaves, closing their door and bidding them goodnight.

"Does it matter what side you sleep on?" Jongdae asks once they’re alone. He drops his belongings into one of the corners of the room.

"Not really," Baekhyun says.

"Liar," Jongdae teases with glinting eyes. "I know you like to sleep on the left side at the motels."

"Why'd you ask then, smartass?" Baekhyun challenges back, laughing when Jongdae childishly sticks his tongue out. The banter between them eases the tension between them, in the room, a tension that had never really been present between them.

Wordlessly, Jongdae wanders over to the right side of the bed and sits on the edge there. edging off his shoes and pulling his jacket off. Baekhyun tries to do the same, but finds himself momentarily distracted by the visible muscles moving underneath Jongdae's thin t-shirt when he takes his jacket off.

Then he snaps out of it, scratching at his nape in embarrassment when he realizes.

"You're okay with this, right?" Baekhyun asks when he sits on the edge and starts with his shoes too, their backs facing each other. "With sharing the bed? I could easily sleep on the couch, or the floor, even — heck, the bathtub would even suffi—"

"I'm _okay_," he hears Jongdae say behind him with an amused chuckle. "You're having me thinking that you aren't, though."

"No, I am," Baekhyun assures. It's just sharing a bed, he convinces himself. “I’m just making sure you are too.”

“Well, I am,” Jongdae says, smiling at Baekhyun, as if in reassurance. “I’ll shower tomorrow morning, so you can go now.”

After Baekhyun showers, he comes back to Jongdae sitting on his side of the bed in his oversized pajama bottoms and equally oversized t-shirt, guitar once again in his arms, but now he's got his songwriting notebook on the bed in front of him, as he scribbles in it. Upon the door opening, he glances up and smiles Baekhyun's way.

"Hey," he says. "You're a marshmallow again."

Baekhyun picks his arms up, the ends of his sleeves hanging off. "I guess the big white shirt isn’t helping, huh?”

Jongdae laughs, watches as Baekhyun climbs nervously into the bed with him.

"I told you, Baek, it’s not a bad thing," Jongdae says, raising his fingers to brush Baekhyun's bangs across his forehead. "You’re cute. The grunge thing, that’s hot, but this is — this is cute.”

The corners of Baekhyun's lips twitch up, a tingle in his neck when Jongdae's fingertips brush his skin. Jongdae calling him _hot_ and _cute_ in the same sentence right before they’re about share a bed for the night isn’t doing well for Baekhyun’s already very sensitive heart.

When Jongdae pulls his hand away, his gaze falls back down to Baekhyun's, where their eyes meet and there's this indecipherable look in them. Neither of them look away, not for a prolonged few more seconds than is necessary, way more necessary than would be deemed normal.

"We should sleep," Jongdae murmurs, after clearing his throat and detaching his eyes away from Baekhyun's. He moves to put his guitar away for the night, along with the notebook.

"You were writing music?" Baekhyun asks, remembering what he'd meant to ask before Jongdae distracted him with talk of how _soft_ he apparently always looks before bed.

"Just a few lines," Jongdae says. "The place here's inspiring. I think I'll like it."

"Me too," Baekhyun says truthfully, his eyes glancing out through the sheen curtains and out the window to see a calm ocean gently gliding against the sand. The moon is high, a silver disc in the sky. "It'll be nice to be off the road for a while. But I am worried about my truck out there, all alone."

"The tumbleweeds will take good care of it, don't you worry."

Baekhyun only frowns at his poor joke, moving to tuck his legs into the blankets as Jongdae does the same.

"It'll be fine, Dragonfly," Jongdae assures. "Even if it's not, we could always force Jongdeok to take us home."

“He has a _family_,” Baekhyun says. “You mess with him too much.”

Jongdae only laughs, leaning back in the bed and pillows while Baekhyun remains sitting. He glances up at him with a breezy smile on his face, cool like the wind on the beach. “What are you thinking about, Dragonfly?”

The involuntary upward twitch of Baekhyun’s mouth is expected by now upon the nickname.

“How good sleeping in a non-motel bed is gonna be,” Baekhyun says.

“I hear that,” Jongdae says, shifting around to get comfortable. “Goodnight. Sweet dreams.”

Baekhyun snorts, shutting the lamp on his side off. He faces away from Jongdae as he lays down, tries not to think too much about how warm Jongdae is besides him.

“Sweet dreams,” he echoes, before falling asleep.

Baekhyun is the last in the household to wake in the morning. He shuffles into the kitchen after cleaning himself up, eyes immediately scanning to search for Jongdae, but is only met with Jongdeok at the kitchen table eating a bagel. There’s a baby chair beside him as well, a one-year-old sitting inside.

Jongdeok makes baby noises at his son until he realizes Baekhyun’s there. “Oh,” he clears his throat as Baekhyun smiles. “Mornin’, Baekhyun. We’ve got eggs ready in the pan, sausages too. Just grab what you like, yeah? Jongdae and his mom are outside, I believe.”

"Thanks, Jongdeok," he says, but moves to the window instead to peer through. Out on the sand, closer to the edge of the beach where the water meets the sand, he sees Jongdae's figure running about, a smile on his face visible even from where Baekhyun is. He's wearing a tank top and shorts, ruffling his hair with a hand as if the wind hasn't ruffled it all up already.

It's only after Baekhyun stops admiring his figure that he notices Jongdae's company. He's on one side of a volleyball net, grinning widely at his teammate, a good-looking boy with pink round cheeks. They're accompanied by two others, a tall boy who looks as if he was made for the beach scene, and a pretty girl with a high ponytail.

Baekhyun forgoes breakfast altogether, at least for now, and slips on his shoes.

“Hey, there he is!” Jongdae calls out as Baekhyun shuffles towards them. His eyes light up upon seeing Baekhyun, and Baekhyun won’t deny it makes him feel a little special. “My sports star, please take over for me so I can stop embarrassing myself.”

_My my my my my_. His.

“I don’t think I’ll be much help considering I just rolled out of bed.”

“Afraid of the challenge?” one of the players ask — the guy opposite them, the one with the fluffy brown hair and tan skin.

And as always, when challenged, Baekhyun’s competitive streak immediately fires up and any and all modesty is thrown out of the window.

“Alright, fine, you’re on,” he says, giving Jongdae a passing high-five as he takes his spot.

They’re the college kids next door, Baekhyun learns as they make light conversation over their game — when they’re not making playful jabs at each other, anyway. He hasn’t played volleyball in a while, not since last summer, but he plays like he’s played yesterday, especially with Jongdae sitting cross-legged by the net and watching him attentively with a proud smile on his face. He can’t let him down after all, not when he’s cheering so enthusiastically and raising a tiny fist in victory when Baekhyun scores a point for them.

The guy on his team — Junmyeon, he learns — is pretty good too, so they’re all an even match. Jongin and Seulgi — the other team, are competitive but playful, and as it turns out, very easy going losers as Junmyeon scores the final winning point.

Jongdae flies over to Baekhyun before throwing an arm around him, probably bragging to the others about Baekhyun. Baekhyun can’t find it in himself to properly listen though, not when he can’t take his eyes off of Jongdae who looks like he was meant to be here, on this beach, his pitch black hair flying in the wind and the ocean waves outlining his figure.

Jongin’s wiping a towel over the back of his nape as he approaches them. “Good game,” he says, holding his fist out. Baekhyun dutifully bumps it. “You guys are cool. We’re having a bonfire on the beach in a few days, with some friends. You’re welcome to join if you want. It’ll be right on the beach here, hard to miss.”

Jongdae looks towards Baekhyun, an unasked question in his eyes. It’s as if his answer depends on Baekhyun’s answer.

“Yeah, sure, sounds great,” Baekhyun says. “We’ll probably be here for a few days anyway.”

“Cool,” Jongin grins, eyes going soft with his smile before they turn fiery again. “Wanna rematch?”

“Let’s do it, man.”

Living a few days away from the coast, they didn’t have many opportunities to see the coastline — or at least a natural one, not a man-made one like the beach at the lake. Jongdae had been right the first night, when he said this place was inspiring. Baekhyun likes sitting on the sand, legs out, hands holding himself up as he takes in the sun. It beats sitting in a truck all day.

They like to walk along the length of the coast when it’s around sunset, when the sky is pinkening and orange is haloing around the sun as it touches the horizon. It’s when the waters are the calmest, barely brushing against their toes.

Jongdeok’s fiancée, Haewon, is just as mischievous as he is, Baekhyun learns quickly. She likes teasing Baekhyun, and when Jongdeok and her are together, there’s no limit to the amount of playful remarks they’ll make at Baekhyun, like the time Jongdeok brought out an old photo book and pulled a picture of twelve year old Baekhyun and Jongdae. They immediately cooed and said Baekhyun’s cheeks really haven’t changed at all, still as pillowy and fluffy as they were when he was younger.

Jongdae too would laugh from his place besides Baekhyun, arms and thighs touching as they sat on the couch. Sometimes, his hand would go to Baekhyun’s knee, but just for a bit, just short enough for Baekhyun to not overthink it. He tries not to, anyway.

They play another game of volleyball with the college kids next door, along with some nighttime frisbee when it gets dark. They meet two others with them — Sehun, Junmyeon’s boyfriend, and Wendy, who is _way_ too good at frisbee. Baekhyun can’t keep up with her, so he gracefully loses with Jongdae at his side.

Jongdae and Baekhyun are left on babysitting duty sometimes as well, when Jongdeok and Haewon go out for dinner on the third night. Baekhyun doesn’t have much experience with children, being an only child, but watching Jongdae interact with little Eunhye is endearing. It’s his first time meeting her as well, and yet, she immediately becomes attached, reaching out for him with stubby arms when she’s with Baekhyun. Baekhyun would pout, pretending to be hurt, but he understands, really, where she’s coming from. It’s hard not to want to be held by Jongdae.

On the night of the bonfire, Baekhyun dresses himself up well for the first time in a few weeks. He actually bothers to style his hair and do his light smudged liner. Jongdae’s seemed to do the same, wearing jeans and his favorite jacket, with his guitar swung over his shoulders, of course. He leaves his hair a tousled mess though; Baekhyun’s really starting to like it that way anyway.

The fire is already up and roaring at the beach when they arrive. They meet another one of their friends, Sooyoung, who’s attached herself to Wendy’s side and doesn’t seem keen on leaving.

They pass out drinks, pouring an unidentifiable alcohol into red cups. Baekhyun takes his cup from Jongin with a small thanks, and immediately looks for Jongdae, only to find him talking to Sehun by the fire. Junmyeon comes up to him instead.

"I don’t think I asked before,” Junmyeon says, “”but where are you and Jongdae from?" .

"A little out east, maybe about a few day's drive if you don't wander off and take your time like we did coming over here," Baekhyun says.

“Ah, I see,” Junmyeon says. “You’re staying in the house next door?”

“Yeah, with Jongdae’s brother.”

Junmyeon snorts, a knowing look crossing over his expression.

“How was it, meeting your boyfriend’s brother?” Junmyeon asks with a bit of a laugh as he sips his drink. Baekhyun blinks, brain malfunctioning as Junmyeon keeps talking. “I remember meeting Sehun’s family for the first time, god, I was so nervous.”

Baekhyun struggles to catch up. “Hang on — me and Jongdae aren’t dating.”

Junmyeon looks up in surprise. “Oh? Sorry, I just assumed — since you guys came out all this way alone, I — I didn’t mean to insinuate —”

“It’s okay,” Baekhyun assures with shaky, nervous laughter. “You’re actually...not even the first to assume that.”

“Really now?” Junmyeon’s eyes sparkle with interest. “Hmm. I wonder why that is.”

Baekhyun parts his mouth to ask what he means, what the look of mischief in his expression means, but is interrupted by someone — Sehun — making a ruckus some yards away.

“My new best friend!” Sehun cheers as he throws an arm around Jongdae’s shoulders, clearly already drunk. “Dude! Did you know this guy’s a _rockstar?_”

He speaks to no one in particular, but Jongin nearby watches with amused eyes and Seulgi laughs into her drink.

“I should go save Jongdae from him, huh?” Junmyeon says, brows raising in a quick expression that just screams _yikes_.

Twenty minutes later, they’re all gathered by the bonfire in a circle. Jongin’s got his head resting on Seulgi’s shoulder, Sehun is lain across the sand with his head in Junmyeon’s lap, Wendy and Sooyoung talk lightly over the crackle of the fire, occasionally laughing. And Jongdae’s besides Baekhyun with his guitar in his lap, asking for requests.

They make a number of them, some popular, some more obscure. Jongdae does the ones he knows — an upbeat song that’s been playing on the radio lately, to which Wendy and Sooyoung stand up to dance to, encouraged along by the group’s clapping and cheering.

As the night goes on, Baekhyun finds himself unconsciously moving in closer to Jongdae as he plays song after song, fingertips working magic on his guitar, as always. They talk about school, about college, about what’s it like—

And they ask about their plans, if either Baekhyun and Jongdae have plans for college.

Jongdae’s quick to shake his head, says it isn’t for him, and that’s fine, because what it means to be successful and happy can only be defined by you and no one else.

And when they turn to look at Baekhyun for an answer, he stumbles over his words, because _what is he supposed to say?_ Jongdae _still_ doesn’t know Baekhyun’s leaving after all of this, leaving him behind for the second time.

Thankfully, someone takes the attention away from Baekhyun by saying they wish they skipped out on college too, and Jongdae’s curious eyes are taken off of him and onto someone else. Baekhyun breathes.

Soon enough, the group’s quieted down, even if the fire still roars alive. They’re drunk and hazy and tired, a layer of lethargy blanketed over them.

Sehun’s asleep in Junmyeon’s lap, Junmyeon himself drifting as well. Jongin and Seulgi talk quietly to themselves, and Wendy’s still sipping at a drink as Sooyoung runs her fingers through her hair. Jongdae still picks at his guitar, a soft ballad crooning from it, quiet, peaceful, barely audible over the crackle of the fire.

Baekhyun himself is resting his head on Jongdae’s shoulder, forehead pressed against it as he loses himself in the heat of the fire, in the melody Jongdae plays, in Jongdae himself.

“Are you tired?” Baekhyun faintly registers Jongdae asking, his voice soft and quiet.

Baekhyun hums, too tipsy to stop himself from nestling further into Jongdae’s neck. He feels rather than hears him chuckle, whole body rumbling with it.

“Baek,” Jongdae says, but it’s patient. Affectionate, and fond, and has Baekhyun's nape heating up, just from that simple word.

He continues. “I really like being with you.”

Baekhyun feels himself stiffen against him, hears Jongdae’s guitar melody fading away. All that’s left is the crackle of the fire and the faint, quiet laughter of some of their new friends.

"Being out on the road with you," Jongdae goes on, "has been really nice. I meant it, back on that first day, when I said I missed you. I did. I _do_”

Baekhyun lifts his head only then, head tilting in curiosity as he meets Jongdae’s eyes. What he finds there melts him, but also — instills fear in him.

“All these years, even while I was singing and doing what I loved and performing, all I could think about was how something felt missing,” Jongdae says, never looking away from Baekhyun. “How it didn't feel right, doing all of this, knowing you weren't by my side At the same time, in a way, I knew I'd always have you. It wasn't like I gave up hope that we'd ever be friends again -- because look, here we are -- but it still didn't feel right.”

Jongdae looks away only then, to put his guitar aside.

“After all, you were the one that inspired me in the first place. You were the one that even convinced me to pursue this at all. People were _buying_ my music all thanks to you, really, and I don't think I've ever really even properly thanked you for it. So," he pauses, lifts his gaze as his eyes flicker towards Baekhyun again, "thank you. I don't know where I'd be without you."

"Don't _do that,_ Jongdae," Baekhyun says, surprising even himself when he interrupts Jongdae. His voice is rough with sleep, tired and worn. "It's all you. Of course I had to convince you, you had this _gift_. What kind of person would I have been if I hadn't encouraged you?"

Jongdae shrugs, mindlessly fumbling with his fingers. "But it's not all me," he says. "It's you, and my bandmates, and then me. I mean it when I say it wouldn't have been possible without you, Baek, no matter what you think. You might think you weren't there for most of it, but you sort of were, in spirit. Any time I felt like giving up or any time I had doubts, I always went back to what you and what you said to me when we were thirteen. So, you know, you mean a lot to me, you do. You have more of a hand in this than you think.

“I know I said we shouldn’t have regrets, but I do have one,” Jongdae says, then chuckles in irony as he rubs sorely at his nape. “It’s the exact same as yours, actually. I regret not being by your side. I regret losing myself in my music when you were the one who had basically kickstarted my love for it in the first place.”

Baekhyun swallows nervously, wide awake now due to the rapid beating of his heart. He feels then that he ought to say something, he ought to comfort Jongdae in the way he had comforted him before.

“I don’t know if you feel the same, and it’s fine if you don’t,” Baekhyun says slowly, tenderly, “but I’ve always sort of considered you my best friend. Not just back when we were riding bikes, but...even during high school too.”

“I...didn’t know that,” Jongdae says. He blinks in surprise, orange firelight casting off the side of his face. He looks beautiful like this.

“Well, it’s true,” Baekhyun shrugs. “People came and went, but you were the only one who ever stayed around. And I know we didn’t hang out much outside of smoking and drinking on the fuckin’ school bleachers once a week, but...those days always meant a lot to me. You always gave me the best advice and said the right things and you always listened. That was important to me. You listened.”

Jongdae’s throat bobs, a curious sheen in his gaze.

“To be honest,” he says under his breath, “I thought you’d forgotten about me for a while.”

“Forget about you? Never, Jongdae,” Baekhyun says. “I mean, one way or another… You were always on my mind. I was always thinking about you, hoping you were doing well, listening to your tape every night when I did my homework.” Baekhyun chuckles a bit. “I’d put on your music and I’d sit in my chair and I’d get ready to start, but be distracted by your songs, and wonder what you were doing right in that moment. Maybe practicing with your band, or out with your friends, or with a girl. I could have called to ask, but… I don’t know. I guess the fact that we’d somewhat grown apart since middle school kept me from thinking I had any right to.”

“I would have welcomed it, you know,” Jongdae says. “I would have liked to get a call from you. It might have kept me from thinking — I don’t know. That we didn’t care for each other anymore.”

Baekhyun furrows his brows at that. He couldn’t even imagine a world where he didn’t care for Jongdae.

“Do you remember junior year, when I showed up to the bleachers with that black eye and a cut on my face?” he says.

“Yeah?”

“I said I fell on my face at practice. Remember?”

Jongdae only squints, wondering what he’s getting at.

“I didn’t hurt myself during practice,” Baekhyun says. “I got my ass kicked. By someone in my supposed circle of friends who insulted you, called you a bunch of things and downplayed your music. I confronted them about it, and we got into a fight.”

“You — _what?_ You got into a fight because of _me?_”

Baekhyun nods, rubbing at his eyes. He’s getting more and more tired. “I probably could have handled it a little better, to be honest. I was provoking him too, insulting him, said he could never be half as good a person as you, and then he swung, and I… I don’t know. I was a dumb kid.”

“Yeah, you were,” Jongdae says, but then he chuckles, disbelieving as he shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have done that, Baek. People say mean shit about me or the band all the time.”

“I couldn’t just let him _say all of that_,” Baekhyun says. “Like, sure, he’s a no-life with nothing better to do, but still, I — I was just so mad at the time. I cared about you still, Jongdae, even if I wasn’t the best at showing it, even if I was too scared to get in touch with you again.”

Jongdae’s quiet for a while, lowering his head. Wendy nearby laughs loudly at something Sooyoung’s whispered into her ear. Sehun snores. Jongin and Seulgi lay across the sand and point to the sky.

Baekhyun waits.

“I didn’t consider you my best friend, Baek” Jongdae says suddenly, and something in Baekhyun’s stomach swoops in the worst way.

“Oh,” he sighs, and reprimands himself for ever even expecting anything else. “I get it, I understand.”

“You talk too much,” Jongdae says. “Let me finish. I didn’t consider you my best friend because I considered you more. You were always going to be more than just my best friend. Even when we were thirteen I knew you were more than that. There was a connection I felt between us that went beyond friends. I felt like we were..” Jongdae huffs out a laugh, a bit in self-mockery, “...written in the stars, if you will.”

Then he swallows, his adam’s apple visibly bobbing in his throat. Baekhyun follows the movement with careful, attentive eyes before he brings them back up to Jongdae’s nervous face and flushed cheeks.

“Like soulmates,” Jongdae murmurs, looking down at his fumbling fingers. “Like I was meant to be yours. Then later on in high school, I figured maybe you were never meant to be mine.”

His throat bobs again, expression on his face vulnerable.

“I always knew I’d be yours though,” Jongdae says. “And coming on this road trip with you has been...so damn confusing, Baek. I knew I shouldn’t have, in the beginning, but I thought I was emotionally controlled enough to keep from, well — from doing this.” He laughs, but it lacks any humor. “But then I thought, I don’t know. Maybe — and this is the smallest, most unsure maybe — maybe there was a chance for us. Maybe there _is_,” he corrects. “A chance.”

He finally manages to meet Baekhyun’s eyes.

Hopeful.

Waiting.

Baekhyun realizes only then, with a stop of his heart, that it’s a confession of sorts.

“Jongdae, I should tell you something,” he blurts.

His heart thunders in his chest. He can’t hold it in any longer; he needs to stop this from going further, needs to stomp on the hope either of them might have that _anything_ can happen.

_When we get back home, I’m leaving to go to school in another country. Whatever we’ve been doing here, whatever we are, it can’t happen. Yes. I’m leaving you again._

He parts his mouth to say it all, let it roll off his tongue—

“Hey, boys!”

Jongdeok calls him from the door of the beach house, waving at them from a distance.

“It’s time for dinner!” Jongdeok yells. “Invite your friends too, if you want.”

“We should head in,” Jongdae says. “It’s getting late.”

Baekhyun’s chest loosens, and he feels like he can breathe, but at the same time, a knot there twists tighter. He knows the longer this is put off, the more it’s going to hurt the both of them.

Yet, he lets Jongdae go anyway, lets Jongdae pull him up, lets Jongdae lead him back into the house without another word between them.

"Be safe, boys."

"You're such a dad."

Jongdeok punches Jongdae lightly on the upper arm as he makes an offended noise. "I'm only seven years older than you, you'll be at my age soon enough."

"Yeah, but I'll still be cool," Jongdae says. "Seven is a huge gap, by the way."

"Get out of my car," Jongdeok teases, half shoving Jongdae out his side of the door.

"See you, Jongdeok," Baekhyun says as he steps out as well.

"Have fun," he says. "Enjoy the stars. Go see what they tell you."

"Will do.”

Jongdeok waves them goodbye when he starts to pull off into the street, ending it off with a trademark peace sign as he disappears down the road.

“Well, we’ve made it,” Baekhyun says as he looks out onto the stretch of the beach, at the mounds of people walking towards the ferry.

“Feels good, right?” Jongdae asks, grinning as he takes Baekhyun by the elbow and drags him to join the rest. It isn’t too crowded, just enough for passersby to know something’s taking place.

Baekhyun would say it feels no different than anything else, but he doesn’t want to ruin the good mood Jongdae appears to be in, if the way he bounces towards the ticket counter says anything at all.

After they purchase their tickets, they’re led onto the ferry by a guide. They find an open space by the southern railing, gathering a decent view of the sun as it heads towards the line that separates the ocean from the sky.

“Clap our hands off, look out onto the setting sun, and bathe in the warmth of our success, right?” Baekhyun says. “This what you imagined?”

“Exactly what I imagined,” Jongdae chuckles, taking hold of the railing as he looks out onto the ocean, calm waters sparkling under the sun’s light.

"Hey, by the way," Jongdae starts, looking back at him as the ferry moves along the water, and Baekhyun feels a chill of brief terror run down his spine, because just from the tone of his voice, he already knows where he's going with this, "we never finished talking yesterday. You were going to tell me something."

Baekhyun debates — only for about a second — actually telling him, but it doesn't feel right, this moment where the sun is setting and creating a halo around Jongdae's head. He's got that smile on his face again too, small, content, just happy to be here, besides Baekhyun.

So Baekhyun remains a coward, and as always, puts it off for later, as if later will be a better time than now. It won't be. Because Baekhyun will find an excuse for it not to be.

"Oh, that," Baekhyun says in a loose casual tone, rubbing at the back of his head in a sheepish manner. "Don't worry about it, Jongdae."

Jongdae only raises a brow, his smile slightly falling, but his expression as kind and patient as ever. "Are you sure? You said it was important."

Baekhyun unconsciously watches the way his lip curls move as he talks, the way the move up and down and curl deeper as his smile widens or the way they loosen a bit as his smiles fall in worry. They're enchanting, like a spell on him, and Baekhyun has to snap himself out of this constant daydream he's been having lately of what it'd be like to kiss—

"Yeah, no, it's fine really," Baekhyun says. "I think I was just going to say I was tired, or something stupid."

"Usually people don't start off with _I have something I need to tell you_ when they want to say they're tired."

Baekhyun shrugs, because he's running out of excuses that actually sound logical, if he had any to begin with. "I was tipsy," he says. "I'm dramatic as fuck when I'm tipsy, you know that." He shoves Jongdae lightly on the shoulder with his own, forcing a playful smile on his face.

"That you are," Jongdae laughs. "Remember that time you put on a one man show of Phantom of the Opera on the bleachers after you drank my whole flask?"

"God, yes," Baekhyun chuckles, and feels his shoulders loosen upon the topic change. "I think I really got into the role of Christine. Phantom was hard to grasp properly."

It would probably be easier to play now, being in love with someone's voice wasn't exactly something completely unfamiliar to Baekhyun.

Jongdae only laughs at him, but moves in closer in a subtle fashion, subtle enough so that Baekhyun almost doesn't even notice it. It's hard to not notice it these days though, as if there's an alarm in Baekhyun's head that screeches when Jongdae comes within a foot of him.

They're leaning against the bannister of the ferry, upper arms touching as they look out onto the ocean. The island is not too far from here

"There's gotta be some part of you that's excited, right?" Jongdae asks. "I know I kind of forced you to come here but I was hoping that, along the way, you'd find your passion for returning here again."

"Did you think I wasn't excited?" Baekhyun chuckles. "I mean, I'm probably not as excited as I would have been when I was thirteen, but thirteen year old has a lot of shit he hasn't seen yet and hasn't been worn down by the years."

Jongdae rolls his eyes.

"I'm excited, Jongdae," Baekhyun promises. "Really. I remember this place so distinctly in my memory, it'll be great to see it again, but different. Because the sky's never the same, right? So the stars will be different. They really make you feel like you're floating away from earth, make you realize how small we really are and how pointless everything here really is in the scheme of things."

"Optimism, I like it," Jongdae teases, and Baekhyun shoves him lightly again with a laugh.

They arrive shortly, as nighttime approaches. The sun is fully down past the horizon, and the moon makes itself well known in the middle of a sea of clustered starlights and twinkles, gatherings of stars, scattered all along the sky. It is not even completely dark yet, but Baekhyun still can’t take his eyes off the sky.

Jongdae’s got to guide him off the ferry with a hand on his wrist, Baekhyun’s head tilted up towards the sky. There’s a clear line of stars directly above them, as if it’s telling them where to go, as if it’s guiding them towards the festival. And below them, a star-patterned rug, rolled out towards the giant arch up ahead that reads _Night Sky Festival_ in big bold letters on its banner.

The sea of fairy lights strung along the stands is the first thing Baekhyun sees when they cross the arch, followed by the stands and their vendors themselves. They sell an array of celestial-themed products, stars and constellations decorated across notebooks, thermoses, clothing and scarves, and just about anything else imaginable. Baekhyun’s got to admit the tight-knit, homey feeling of the festival is comforting.

It’s a bit more crowded in this area, so Baekhyun heads first, making sure he doesn’t lose Jongdae in the crowd by holding onto his t-shirt. Someone nearby in a navy blue blazer is handing out foldable maps, and Baekhyun takes one graciously.

“Where to first, captain?” Baekhyun asks Jongdae.

“Here!” Jongdae exclaims — and it’s cute, Baekhyun thinks, to see this childlike wonder side of him. He thinks again to what he said before, about the power of the stars, the galaxy, and their magic. Baekhyun should have known how excited he'd be to be here.

He points to the octagon that reads _Telescope Viewing_. Before Baekhyun can even agree, Jongdae’s pulling him along like an excitable child in that direction.

Considering the amount of people at the festival, they don’t get much of an opportunity to stargaze through the telescopes, but it’s alright, Baekhyun figures. They spend more of their time on the outskirts of the octagon, eyes up at the sky anyway. Baekhyun thinks it’s better if they can see it together like this anyway, rather than through a sheet of glass alone.

They leave the octagon soon enough, deciding to wade back into the crowds/

“Enjoy the rest of the festival,” another man in a blue blazer says, giving them a kind nod as they pass.

“You too, man,” Baekhyun says, nodding in return.

"Don't forget about the tradition at midnight," the man says with a heartfelt smile. "To make a wish, and kiss your beloved under the stars so that they may all come true."

Jongdae hums, a sparkle in his eyes. “Is that so?”

The man in the blazer has moved on to say his farewells to the next guests leaving, but Jongdae had said it to himself and Baekhyun more or less. Baekhyun feels jittery, all of a sudden.

An hour later, they’re walking along the stands again, star-shaped donuts in their hands.

“I feel like a kid again,” Baekhyun says, chewing diligently on his cherry donut. “I haven’t been here in so long and yet it’s all coming back as if it was just yesterday.”

“That means you’re having fun, right?” Jongdae asks. He rips a piece of his glazed donut to offer to Baekhyun, who takes it and offers a piece of his in return.

The way Jongdae says it, the way he _looks_ at Baekhyun when he says it, it gives Baekhyun an odd fluttery feeling in his stomach — especially with the way they’re strolling along the stands together leisurely, unrushed. It feels too reminiscent of a date.

“I am,” Baekhyun says. “Thanks for bringing us here. I forgot how pretty it was.”

They walk under a sea of diamond dusted stars, dotted over the night sky like they’ve been carelessly thrown on. The more cartoon-ish stars hanging from arches and stands are pretty too, lit up in golds and silvers and lining the rest of the walkway for them to see the rest of the cobblestone pavement ahead.

Baekhyun’s nibbling at the last of his donut when Jongdae’s suddenly _giggling_, for no apparent reason, until Baekhyun feels himself being tugged by the elbow across the pathway, knocking into strangers and shoulders.

“Jongdae, what—”

“Can we get a face painting done for him?”

Jongdae pulls out his wallet, speaking to a woman at a stand with her entire face painted blue, decorated with little flecks of bright yellow stars.

Baekhyun reels. “It’s for kids, Jongdae, she’s not—”

“You most certainly can,” the vendor says anyway, smiling from ear to ear as Baekhyun is sheepishly guided to the chair to take a seat. His protests die on his lips, evident that neither of them will listen anyway. It’s Jongdae’s choice apparently, as he leans to whisper in the artist’s ear what she should paint onto Baekhyun’s face. Baekhyun worries for a brief moment, but then remembers that it’s got to be family friendly, after all, lest she wants to lose her job.

She takes her time on him, brush gliding across his face as Jongdae watches with bright and eager eyes. Baekhyun feels a bit on show, families walking by with their eyes on him as their children pull on their parents’ sleeves and beg for a face painting too. He wonders, vaguely, how he found himself here.

“Pretty,” Jongdae says after a while, smiling. Baekhyun tries not to flush, because it wasn’t like he can turn away to hide it.

When the artist finishes, Baekhyun looks in the mirror, surprised to find that he doesn’t _hate_ it. It’s cute, he admits, the way her painted constellation connects with Baekhyun’s _tattooed_ constellation and branches up into his cheek, up around his eyes and onto his forehead. There’s glitter too, made out to look like stars on his face. Baekhyun looks closer and sees a small dragonfly flying around one of the stars, and he can’t help but smile.

“Like it?” Jongdae asks. Baekhyun beams at him.

“I do,” he says. “I thought you’d make her do something silly.”

“Do you _want_ something silly? I can draw a dick on the other side of your face for free,” Jongdae grins.

“Not necessary, man,” Baekhyun is quick to disclaim, earning Jongdae’s bright smile before he allows himself to be pulled back into the crowds, lost in a sea of strangers.

They find themselves under one of the few empty gazebos around the festival. It’s lined with lights again, hanging from the fence and the railings, and it’s some distance away from the rest of the festivities, the music distant and muffled.

"Are you glad we came here?" Jongdae asks, leaning against the railing and hoisting himself up onto it.

Baekhyun decides there's only one answer.

"Yeah," he says. "I am. Maybe I was a bit too—" he pauses, "—cynical, in thinking I didn't want to come back here, thinking it was just a dream I had when I was a kid. But it's nice to be back." He smiles a bit, turning his head just a bit to send Jongdae a bit of a side glance and a soft smile. The glow of the scattered and complex stars and the moon reflects off of Jongdae's face as he looks up at the stars, then the side of his cheek and cheekbone when he turns to meet Baekhyun's eyes. "I'm really glad you forced me to come along here."

Jongdae laugh incredulously. "_I_ forced _you?"_ he says. "All I did was choose the destination, you're the one who said you couldn't live without me, or something."

"I did not say that, you dirty liar," Baekhyun says, revelling in the laughter that rings from Jongdae's pretty mouth.

"Might as well have," Jongdae teases, eyes squinting into the tiny moon crescents they turn into when he's happy. Baekhyun likes him happy. Wishes he could keep him happy forever.

Maybe there's a bit of truth in what he's saying, but Baekhyun instead chooses to shove him lightly with his shoulder instead of arguing back or agreeing. That's a line he doesn't want to touch. Not yet. Not now, if ever.

Their eyes meet after, gentle smiles on their faces. Jongdae lifts his hand to brush Baekhyun’s bangs, before allowing his fingers to float down to Baekhyun’s cheek and lower.

“How’s the tattoo?” Jongdae asks, hand ghosting over Baekhyun’s neck. “Does it hurt still?”

“Not really,” Baekhyun says. His throat bobs at the electricity that seems to spark in the small space between Jongdae’s fingertips and Baekhyun’s neck. It’s probably his imagination, but it gets his heart rate going all the same.

“I should have brought my guitar,” Jongdae says, now drumming his fingers on Baekhyun’s cheek playfully, as if he’s itching to play again.

“So you can steal all the attention away from the stars?” Baekhyun laughs, dodging his hand and waving it away.

“I think you do enough of that,” Jongdae says. His fingertip traces along the paint on Baekhyun’s face now, following the line of the constellation. Baekhyun looks up at him curiously, finds that his smile has gone wistful.

Then he’s pulling his hand away and jumping down from the railing in a quick hop, walking across the gazebo to the other end leisurely. He looks out onto the rest of the festival, onto the ocean where the canoes are floating with lanterns, onto the octagon where the stargazing festival goers are. Baekhyun watches him for a moment, before joining him on the other end.

“Did you want to do anything else?” Jongdae asks. “The canoes?”

“I think those are for couples,” Baekhyun chuckles, a nervous ring to it.

Jongdae only shrugs, glances at Baekhyun sideways. “It’s not like they could prove we aren’t.”

He tucks his hands into his pockets, smile quaint.

“It’s pretty romantic over there,” Baekhyun notes, unable to meet his eyes.

“It’s pretty romantic _here_,” Jongdae says, glancing at the lights and the white, floral details carved into the wood.

Then Jongdae takes his gaze back to him, to see Baekhyun staring back at him too. The implications of his words, of the flash in his eyes — it’s reminiscent to last night, back at the bonfire. Baekhyun gets that same jittery feeling he did last night too, gets that same flushed warmth in his chest, crawling up to his nape, to his cheeks.

And of course, that swooping feeling, especially when Jongdae doesn’t break eye contact between them. Baekhyun doesn’t either. He can’t. It’s as if the moment he does, the bubble will break and he’s back to a world where it’s too late for both of them.

But _here_, it’s like time doesn’t exist. It’s like Baekhyun can pretend they don’t have to leave, that it’s almost like everything’s stood still to give them a chance, to give Baekhyun a taste of what he _could have_.

There’s an abrupt roar of cheers nearby that briefly drags Baekhyun out of his thoughts.

“It must be midnight,” Jongdae says, glancing over at the ruckus before turning his attention back towards Baekhyun. Were his eyes that dark before? “They’re really into their tradition here, huh?

“Yeah,” is all Baekhyun can say, before turning back to Jongdae to see he’s still gazing at him with that warmth in his eyes.

He thinks, briefly, that with the light hitting him like this, with the distance between them slowly diminishing every second, that this would be a perfect moment to kiss him.

Should he want to.

It would be so, so easy. It’s _too_ easy, as if he’s got to hold himself _back_ from doing it. The draw that Baekhyun has had to him lately, it's more powerful, stronger than gravity. It pulls him in, he wants nothing more than to press himself against him and to feel his mouth on his own and feel what it's like to kiss those lip curls, or feel what it's like to wrap his arms around his waist, to clutch him close.

The fact that Jongdae is leaning in too, subtly, and the fact that his eyes keep glancing down at his lips isn't helping all too much.

A little voice screams in the back of his mind, reminds him that no, he shouldn't. He needs to put an end to this draw that Jongdae has on him, needs to put space between them before he does something that he'll regret. That they both will.

It's tempting, though. More than tempting.

"Wait."

Jongdae pulls back just slightly, eyes flickering back up to Baekhyun's as concern settles there. Baekhyun thinks his cheeks turn a bit pink too, as if he's just realized what they were going to do.

"We shouldn't," Baekhyun says, his throat clogging up the more he has to look at Jongdae's confused expression. "I lied, earlier. I'm sorry. I did have something important to tell you last night."

"I figured," Jongdae says, but there's a melancholy to his tone now, and suddenly he's pulling back all the way until there's a safe distance between them again, one Baekhyun hates, every single inch of it. "It's because of what I said last night, right? I shouldn't have assumed anything. I think I got caught up in this trip with you, maybe, thought that—”

"Wait, Jongdae, no, that's—" Baekhyun stumbles over his words, thinks over how to say all of this because it’s now or never. All the times he’s put off telling him has snowballed into this one terrifying moment.

"I'll be leaving soon," he says. "I'm going overseas, when we get back to town. I'm going to live in Korea, going to school there, for the next few years.” He breathes. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."

Jongdae only stares blankly at him for a few seconds, expression unreadable, before he’s looking away with a frown between his brows and confusion etched in the way he grimaces.

“What?” he says, so quietly that Baekhyun thinks he may be speaking to himself.

“I’m leaving town,” Baekhyun whispers. “We...shouldn’t...start anything. Between us.”

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I was afraid," Baekhyun says, "of what you'd say. I didn't want to tell you because it’s like — it’s like I’m leaving you all over again.”

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae says, shaking his head as if to make sense of things. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t just tell me. I wouldn’t have been upset, or anything, because you have to do _you_, but I’m — I’m just confused why you didn’t tell me after all this time, I—”

“I _know_,” Baekhyun stops him. “I just kept putting it off, and putting it off, but the more I put it off the more I knew it would make things _worse_ and that’s why I can’t — it’s why I can’t start anything with you because I know I’ll have to end it when we get back, and that’s just — it’s not fair to you.”

Jongdae exhales, disappointed, biting his lip and wearing at it as his eyes open and shut, a flurry of emotions overcoming him. Baekhyun feels another sweeping feeling in his stomach, but it feels _awful_ this time, and he wants nothing more than to rewind time.

“Well,” Jongdae says, “you’re right that it’s not fair to me. It still isn’t. If you were afraid of hurting me, you should know that you've done it anyway. This _entire_ time, I thought...I thought something would happen, finally happen, but I guess that’s on me for even assuming anything at all.”

“But, Jongdae, I _do_—”

“Please don’t say it,” Jongdae shakes his head. “Don’t say it, you’ll only make things worse. Please just let me believe I was making it all up. I think it would be easier that way.”

Baekhyun wants to protest, wants to take him by the shoulders and say _yes! I like you, of course I do!_ But he’s right. It would only make things worse, it would only hurt more.

“If you’d told me earlier,” Jongdae says, “I wouldn’t have let myself get so close to you again.”

And there it is.

“I wouldn’t have _hoped_....” Jongdae says. “Wouldn’t have thought…”

“Jongdae.”

“I’m going to catch the first ferry back,” Jongdae says, interrupting him. “I gotta think over all of this. Congratulations, though. On getting to go overseas. I mean it. I’m proud of you. But I’m confused over everything else. You — you understand, right? Sorry, I— Need time, or something.”

“Jongdae,” Baekhyun urges, “we can go back together, yeah?”

Jongdae’s eyes flicker all over Baekhyun, looking as if a dozen conflicting answers are battling in his mind. In the end, only one wins out.

He turns to leave, voice hardened.

“I’ll see you back at the house, Baek.”

That night, Baekhyun washes the paint off his face and sleeps on the couch. Wooden, like Jongdeok had said.

Jongdae barely speaks to him over the next day. When they return to the house after the festival, he goes straight to bed and offers Baekhyun a simple _goodnight_, and nothing else. Doesn’t argue when Baekhyun drags blankets to the couch. It’s nothing like the past nights where they stayed up until the early hours and talked about everything and nothing. It stings. Baekhyun should have prepared for this better.

Jongdae is still kind to him, still does the bare minimum, like holding the door open for him, or offering to drive that next morning when they start to head out, but it’s different. Somehow, this only makes Baekhyun feel worse.

Jongdeok must have noticed too, because just as Baekhyun is about to join Jongdae in the truck, he pulls him aside — Eunhye still in his arms, babbling — to ask him.

“Are you guys okay?” he says. “I asked Jongdae earlier but he wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“We’re fine,” Baekhyun assures with a forced smile. “We’re just tired, I think. Homesick.”

“So you won’t tell me anything either, huh?” Jongdeok says, nodding. “Okay, understandable, but you’re about to be alone with him for the next few days, man. Whatever happened, I hope you can resolve it. I’d hate to see you guys not talking again. I don’t want to see Jongdae…_lifeless_ again, like he was the last few years.”

“The last few years?” Baekhyun arches a brow.

Jongdeok avoids Eunhye’s wandering hand as she tries to grab his nose, shaking her off. “He’s different without you. I haven’t seen him so energized in years. Even Haewon noticed, you know. You bring a sort of...I don’t know, life to him. You’re good for him. You guys compliment each other, you — bring out the best in him. He’s happy with you. I don’t want to see him revert back to who he was when you guys stopped talking.”

Baekhyun doesn’t know what to do with this information. It may take him longer to process it than it would take for him to respond, so he purses his lips and forces out words that sound robotic.

“I messed up,” he says, “but I’m working on it.”

They don’t quite take their time as much as they did the first time. They don’t stop at unnecessary places, don’t stop to wander around hiking trails or old train wrecks. The road is endless, save for the gas station refills and motel stops for the night.

Jongdae talks to him, but it’s minimal, and it lacks the brightness of before. Maybe this is what Jongdeok meant when he’d said he was different before, when they weren’t talking.

It’s clear to see that Jongdae is trying to put some distance between them. What hurts the most is how much he clearly still cares for him.

It’s the small things. Like how he’ll offer Baekhyun the last few slices of pizza because he knows he’s been starving. Or how he’ll see how tired he is while driving, and offer to take his place. Or how he’ll give him an extra blanket when they’re at a motel when he sees him shivering from the air conditioner.

Baekhyun is grateful, but at the same time—

He doesn’t sing in the car anymore. He doesn’t make jokes, doesn’t point out the horses or cows when they pass by them on the road. Doesn’t tell Baekhyun about his weird dreams when they start their day. Maybe it would have been better, easier, for Jongdae to be upset at him, rather than aloof. As if they’re strangers.

Then, one day before they’re set to reach home, Jongdae surprises him by taking an exit that isn’t a part of the route.

Baekhyun lifts his head from the window, wondering if he’s seeing right, wondering if Jongdae’s just getting gas — but that can’t be right. They got gas just an hour ago, and food as well.

When Jongdae turns onto the main road, that’s when Baekhyun recognizes where they are, recognizes the bridge underneath them and the familiar shape of the trees and grassy hills.

"We're going to the lake?" he asks.

Jongdae hums. "The sun is going to set. I thought you should see it here one more time."

_Before you leave_, he leaves off, but it hangs in the air between them anyway, tense.

Baekhyun isn't sure how to respond, but he's grateful for the fact that Jongdae acknowledges him, doesn't seem to be mad at him. Is _thinking_ of him. It isn't like there aren't sunsets where he's going, but he's glad he gets to see it with him.

They drive in silence the rest of the way, waving along the road as it takes them higher. The sky colors, a mixture of purples and blues as it gets closer to the sun, edging closer and closer to the horizon every time Baekhyun glances at it.

By the time they pull onto the lookout, Baekhyun's nerves have started to buzz, realizing he'll have to get out, realizing he'll likely have to make conversation, but then he realizes this cowardly part of him is the reason why he's in this mess with Jongdae at all.

Jongdae gets out first, almost immediately after he shuts the engine off. He doesn't say anything, just shuts the door behind him. Baekhyun watches him tuck the keys into his back pocket and walk towards the edge of the cliff. He recollects himself and takes a deep breath before opening his own side of the door and leaves the car.

He idles there for a while, arm on top of the roof of the truck, just watching. Waiting. The silence between them kills him, the way Jongdae stands there with his hands in his pockets, eyes attached to the sun and nowhere else. Baekhyun decides then, that he should probably move at some point.

He goes to stand besides Jongdae, some feet away. It’s difficult to imagine them jumping off this cliff now, although Baekhyun feels like doing so again, for an entirely different reason that didn’t involve getting that addicting spike of adrenaline.

"I used to come here alone, sometimes," Jongdae says, after some time of silence. " After we grew apart at the beginning of high school. After I left my parents' place. It made me feel better, watching the sun touch the horizon, watching the day end.

"Baekhyun, I--I'm not going to do this again."

Baekhyun doesn't know what he's referring to, but he doesn't like the sound of that.

"Oh," he says.

"I'm not going to lose you again," he says, continuing. Baekhyun may have broken his neck if he turned his head any faster. "I'm not going to watch as you fade away into someone I once knew again.”

"What I'm saying is—" he stops to search for the right words, continuing on with a softer tone. "I'm not mad that you're moving. I'm proud of you, I am. I'm so proud of you. I just want you to be happy, you know that. What I was mad about was you keeping it from me. But...now that I'm over that, I really just want to ask you— " he pauses, throat bobbing.

"I wanted to ask you why you don't think we could make it work. Because I think we can. I believe we can. After all these years, we still made it work between us, whatever this is. And I believe we still can even when you're across the world."

He messes with his fingers, fumbles with his hands as a faint red paints his cheeks.

"You've always meant so much to me I would be a fool to let you go now.”

Baekhyun stares, feels something welling up in his eyes as he breathes out a _huge_ sigh of relief.

"You really need to stop starting your big speeches with vague starters," he says, almost tearfully, and Jongdae chuckles too. This is nice. This is familiar.

“We’ll always be friends, Dae,” Baekhyun says, faint smile on his face. “We can make it work.”

Jongdae’s quiet for a while, still unable to meet Baekhyun’s eyes as the smile on his face falls just slightly. The orange of the sunset hits him in a way that reminds Baekhyun of the night of the bonfire.

“Friends,” Jongdae says, nodding once. “Right.”

“I’m sorry, again, for not telling you—”

“Stop,” Jongdae shakes his head. “We’re not doing that anymore. We’re past it, okay?”

“But you deserved to know.”

“I did, yeah,” Jongdae says, “but we’re _past it._ It’s not like anything can be done about it. I know now anyways, yeah? Besides, I was a bit of a jerk too, back at the bonfire, so I’m sorry too. There. We got it all out of the way. Okay?”

Baekhyun stares, hesitant, wishing he can apologize a dozen more times, before nodding, curt. “Yeah. Okay.”

Jongdae nods too. He smiles, small. “Okay,” he says. His throat bobs. “Friends, then.”

Baekhyun searches his face, tries to make sense of the strange furrow between Jongdae’s brow that looks pained, but in the end, can’t.

“Friends,” he says.

The rest of their ride home is friendly, amicable enough. Jongdae isn’t as distant as he was before, but Baekhyun would be lying to himself if he said everything was back to the way it was. There is still a line, a quiet tension. Even as much as the both of them try to get rid of that tension, it lingers in the silences between them.

Baekhyun drops Jongdae off at his house just past nine pm the day after they stop at the cliff. They have nothing but the single porchlight as a way of seeing where they’re going as Baekhyun helps Jongdae grab his luggage and store it back into the house. Which is fine, because Baekhyun isn’t sure he could stand to see the look of resignation that’s undoubtedly on Jongdae’s face.

“That’s it, I think,” Jongdae says just as Baekhyun steps outside to make another trip.

“Oh,” he says, stopping in his path just as Jongdae lines up with him on the porch. Baekhyun can see him clearly now, and is surprised to see the corner of his lip sloped up.

“Thanks, Baekhyunnie,” Jongdae says, “for inviting me on your trip.”

Baekhyun warms at _Baekhyunnie_. “Come on now, it was _our_ trip. Thanks for coming with me.”

“When do you leave again?” Jongdae asks.

“In about a week.”

Jongdae smiles, as if to reassure him.

“You scared?”

Baekhyun shrugs. “Yeah. I am. The unknown is scary. But it’ll be good for me.”

“Pop your bubble, and all that,” Jongdae chuckles.

Baekhyun doesn’t mention to him that it’s been popped some time ago already. That he is not nearly as afraid as he was a few weeks prior. It’s a good kind of fear anyway. The kind he can embrace, rather than push away.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says anyway. “I guess.”

“I’ll see you around, Dragonfly,” Jongdae says, his nod short and curt. “For the next week, at least.”

Baekhyun purses his lips, forces it into a smile. “‘Course.”

Jongdae waves at him one final time from the doorway. Baekhyun returns it, feeling oddly bittersweet as he pulls out of the driveway alone in the truck for the first time in a few weeks.

They’re alright now at least. That’s all that matters. Baekhyun couldn’t fathom leaving the country without fixing things between them, couldn’t imagine trying to live in a whole new country with the added stress of knowing he’d potentially lost his best friend.

So things are going pretty good, he’d say. Friends. Friends is better than strangers. Friends is better than just someone he used to know. They’ve been friends all this time, so nothing will change. That’s good, isn’t it? It’s all worked out, as it always will between the two of them.

As Baekhyun drives down the road with nothing but his headlights guiding him and no music in the background, he realizes that the more he repeats the word _friends_ in his head, the more it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself that this is all he wants.

Baekhyun is content with this. Happy enough. _Enough_.

The next week is spent mostly packing, preparing for the move. His father cries more than once and his mother reassures him that he’ll be fine, just a bit emotional. When he has time, he spends it with Kyungsoo, and sometimes a few of their other friends, either at the park with a soccer ball, or at the mall, or the movies.

As for Jongdae, they spend two days together — one of them at the arcade and movies (he’d forgotten how terribly competitive Jongdae is), and the other at Jongdae’s home. Baekhyun meets his other bandmates — Chanyeol, who’s tall and _seems_ intimidating, but is actually kind and sweet — and Jungeun, who _is_ intimidating. She had arched a brow upon meeting Baekhyun, like she was challenging him, then laughed when Baekhyun had gotten flustered.

It wasn’t until they let them be though, that Baekhyun really felt his heart mess him all up and betray him like the fool it was.

_Friends,_ he repeated in his head as Jongdae sat on his couch and played at his guitar again. _Friends,_ he thought as Jongdae lost himself in his music again, at his element. _Friends,_ he thought as his eyes traced every single feature of Jongdae’s beautiful expression as he sang with his eyes closed. _Friends, friends, friends._

Baekhyun only leaves at around eleven pm. They stand on the porch again, unspoken words between them, small smiles on their faces as they bid their goodbyes. Jongdae lends his jacket — his favorite black one — to Baekhyun for the night, seeing as it’s colder than usual and Baekhyun had failed to bring his own.

Then, as he’s about to leave, Jongdae hugs him. _Hugs_ him.

They haven’t ever hugged, but the way Jongdae’s arm wraps around him, the way his chin rests so familiarly on his shoulder, it’s as if they’ve done this a million times before.

And what’s more, it doesn’t feel like a hug. It’s like an embrace. Suddenly, Baekhyun has the proper metaphor for what Jongdae’s singing feels like.

_Friends,_ that voice in his head screams at him one more time as he waves goodbye to Jongdae, pulling out of his driveway.

_Friends._

He wants more.

The night before Baekhyun leaves is a flurry of friends coming by his way and telling him they’ll miss him, telling him they’ll keep in touch. The party takes place out on the field at their school, most of the recently graduated seniors attending.

They weren’t allowed to bring alcohol onto the campus, but as expected, someone’s snuck it in anyway, handing out glasses of _lemonade_. Baekhyun sips at his feebly as he stands besides Kyungsoo the majority of the time, talking over the loud chatter of their former classmates.

“Still wearing that jacket, huh?” Kyungsoo asks Baekhyun, tugging lightly at the black nylon. “Never mind the fact that it’s the middle of summer.”

“It’s called staying on trend, Kyungsoo, not like your all-black fashion would _know_,” Baekhyun teases. “You always manage to look like the grim reaper, especially when you brood like that.”

“_Grim reaper_. At least I’m not a lovestruck fool.”

“Jongdae and I are friends,” Baekhyun grumbles. “And the jacket’s comfortable. I’m going to give it back when I see him tonight, though. I don’t feel right taking it with me.”

“How are you and Jongdae, anyway?” Kyungsoo asks.

“We’re fine,” Baekhyun shrugs. “Met him a few days ago for coffee, it went well.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Baekhyun.”

“What?”

“C’mon, man. When we talked on the phone during your trip, you were completely smitten. And now all that’s just gone away? I know you way better than that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re _hiding_, as usual,” Kyungsoo says, downing the rest of his lemonade. “Feelings don’t just go away like that. But alright, alright, I’ll let up, I guess. Only you know what’s best for you.”

Kyungsoo knows _exactly_ what he’s doing by _”letting up”_. Knows that by not pushing any further, he might get Baekhyun to actually admit what he wants. The guy hadn’t even started his psychology degree yet, and here he was, playing his usual mind tricks to get Baekhyun to say what he wanted.

And it was working. Because now that he even mentioned Jongdae at all, Baekhyun realizes how eager he is to see him tonight.

“It was just a crush, Kyungsoo,” he shrugs. “I’ll get over it. And I’m _moving_, it wouldn’t even work.”

“It sounded like more than just a crush,” Kyungsoo frowns. “And it doesn’t even sound like you’ve given it a proper chance, man.”

"I don't know," Baekhyun says. "I've never even properly called it a crush until now because it never felt like one, if you know what I mean. I mean, it _was_ a crush, but it -- it didn't feel like a normal crush. I always called it a kind of crush that you didn't need to pursue, it was always a sort of deep affection and..._attraction_, but without the inane desire to _be_ with them, if you get what I mean.”

Baekhyun shifts on his two feet, absentmindedly watching the rest of his lemonade splosh around his cup.

“I mean, obviously I would want to...be....with him,” he says quietly. “I would love it, really. But it's not like high school crushes where I'd walk up to them and ask them out. It's not like that. It's just...it's mostly just a deep desire to just. See him doing what he loves. It's just wanting him to be happy, really, even if I can't be with him. It's just doing everything I can to make him happy, doing what I can to _keep_ him as happy as possible. Do you know what I mean?"

Kyungsoo only slowly arches a brow at him before he huffs out a skeptical chuckle, corner of his lip turning up as a knowing look passes over his expression.

"I think that's just love, man," he says.

Baekhyun blinks. _Huh?_

"It probably doesn't feel like a crush because it isn't just a crush" Kyungsoo says, so casually, like he isn’t talking about such dire matters of the heart. "It's just love."

"Love," Baekhyun repeats, mostly to himself.

Baekhyun can’t tell if the evening is getting cooler with the chill of the wind, or if it’s just a symptom of being completely _struck with realization_.

"I think maybe you realized it that night," Kyungsoo says, slowly now, "that after all that time you spent apart from him, missing him, and then hearing his voice again and seeing him do what he loves, what he told you years ago that he wanted to do — I think you realized what you really felt for him. With love, there's no...inane desire to be with them, like you said. Of course you'd want to, but you don't have to. Above all, you just want their happiness, their wellbeing. Whether it’s with you or someone else, or alone, that’s all you want for them.”

Baekhyun stares stricken at Kyungsoo as he makes proper sense of his words.

“But...we were only together for about two weeks—”

“That’s bullshit, you’ve been together for _years_, when you really think about it. You’ve been in love for _far_ longer than those two weeks out on the road, and we both know it, Baek.”

“So what, I told you — I’m leaving _tomorrow_, it’s not like anything can happen. It’s too late for us.”

“I love you, man, but you’re upsetting me,” Kyungsoo says, lightly punching him on his upper arm. “It’s never too late. _Never._ If you guys can go this long, even after that weird period where you didn’t talk, then I don’t think anything can stop you guys.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes soften then, something like warmth in them.

“And you’ll never know unless you give it a chance, right?”

“I just…” Baekhyun trails off. “I don’t want to ruin what we already have. I don’t want to lose him again if it doesn’t work out. And it might not. Work out. I just want him happy, Kyungsoo, I told you.”

Kyungsoo purses his lips, before tilting his head in sympathy, a frown between his brows.

"But what is his happiness if it's not with you, Baek?" he says.

Baekhyun chokes on that, because it reminds him of what Jongdeok said too, the day they left his house. How Jongdae is different with him, with Baekhyun.

“Wise ass,” Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “You’re so annoying. I’m going to miss you.”

“Don’t make me cry, asshole. Just go get your man.”

He gestures over Baekhyun’s shoulder with his empty cup. Baekhyun follows his line of sight until he sees Jongdae, standing in the crowd, talking to someone before he spots Baekhyun too, a smile spreading across his face and his eyes lighting up like Baekhyun’s the only person he ever wants to see.

And Baekhyun realizes how annoyingly right Kyungsoo is when his heart starts doing that familiar _thump-thump_ in his chest again.

“You’re so obvious,” Kyungsoo says, and earns a lighthearted, weak slap on his chest as Baekhyun attacks him.

“Shush,” he says, although he still feels the heat of his nape burning up as he turns back to Jongdae’s direction. He’s gesturing at Baekhyun now, pointing up towards the bleachers, and Baekhyun gets the message.

“I’ll be back,” Baekhyun tells Kyungsoo. “See me before you leave.”

“Sure, sure, if I’m not wasted by then,” Kyungsoo says, waving him off. “Don’t fuck it up.”

Baekhyun leaves him with an eye roll, but a fond smile, as Kyungsoo joins the rest of their peers with an excited request for another drink.

Baekhyun half jogs in order to catch up with Jongdae, who’s already halfway up the bleachers. He takes a seat around the same area they sat in before at the beginning of the summer.

"Hey,” Baekhyun says, wading down the aisle as he gets close. “You made it.”

“I wouldn’t miss out on the chance to see you before you leave, you kidding me?” Jongdae says, clapping Baekhyun on the back as he sits beside him. Baekhyun laughs, settling himself and looking out onto the rest of the party on the field.

“So this is it, huh?” Jongdae asks.

Baekhyun huffs, quaint smile on his lips. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

They go silent after that, and it’s nerve-wracking, because it’s almost as if the silence between them is _expecting_. Like it’s waiting to be broken, with neither of them being brave enough to make the first move.

Baekhyun considers everything Kyungsoo said to him, considers even what Jongdae had told him before, about how they always seem to make it work regardless of whatever kind of diverging paths they take. It would be hard; Baekhyun has never been in a long-distance relationship, much less an actual _serious_ relationship.

He thinks that with Jongdae, though, everything has always been easy. And when he realizes this, he wonders why he even thought they wouldn’t be able to make it in the first place. This is he and _Jongdae_ they’re talking about. They’re always going to be together, even if they’re not.

They always end up in the same place anyway, right?

“Hey, I—”

“—Wanted to tell you something—”

They speak over each other, laughing nervously. Baekhyun runs his fingers through his hair, antsy and restless.

“You first,” Jongdae offers.

Baekhyun means to argue, but realizes that the longer he keeps this within himself, the more likely he’s going to explode. Maybe it’s not what he means to say, but when his eyes fall down to Jongdae’s lips, it sort of comes out on its own.

“I owe you a kiss, I think,” he blurts. Something pulses in him them; it’s the feeling reminiscent of the one flowing through him the night he sat in the back of his truck as Jongdae drove. A strange surge of confidence, taking hold. There’s no going back.

“Owe?” Jongdae repeats, eyes going wide. He chuckles a bit, looking as if he’s trying to keep it together with the way he starts to pinken in the cheeks and stumble over his words. “You don’t…_owe_ me anything, Baek, if you’re talking about the festival tradition, it’s just a silly tradition — you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

"I wanted to then," Baekhyun says. "And I want to now."

"For the tradition?" Jongdae asks, but his voice is like a squeak, and it has Baekhyun chuckling, courage in his veins. It feels good.

"No," Baekhyun says. "I just want to. If that's okay with you."

"Baekhyun." A single word from him, but it already says so much. Jongdae’s smile falls as he finally gets what Baekhyun’s trying to say, cocking his head in confusion, mouth parted as if he wants to say more but can’t figure out how to translate his thoughts into words.

“I was thinking over what you said,” Baekhyun says when Jongdae can’t find it in himself to say more, “and you're right. We could make this work, but I don’t just mean being friends. I want to be with you, and I know it's the worst thing to suggest the night before I leave to another country, but I...don't want...to take different paths from you anymore.. I want to be on the same road as you, I want to take the road that _you're_ on, whichever it may be, however bumpy or rough or long it is.”

Baekhyun is shaky, a small fear taking hold now that the words are actually out. The realization that Jongdae could respond in _any_ possible way is worming into his head, but he doesn’t stop — keeps going.

"I could never leave knowing I let this chance slip," Baekhyun says. "Knowing _I'm_ the one who held us back for the _second_ time."

Jongdae’s eyes are glossy in the sunset, Baekhyun sees now that he meets his eyes. He says every word carefully, and watches Jongdae’s reaction after every single one.

"I think about it often these days," Baekhyun continues. "What we could have been if we'd stayed friends at the beginning of high school. And I don't want to have to regret anything later on, and it's totally fine if you say no, of course, because being with someone who lives across the world is never easy, but I thought I should, I don't know, try. And I'm willing to put the work in, of course, for you, because--" his throat clogs up, "over the past few years, I haven't been the best at showing how much I care about you and I -- want to make up for it. From here on out. If you'll let me."

A glazed look crosses Jongdae's expression, his brows up and curved in that way they are when there's a thousand thoughts running through his head. He parts his mouth again, looking away, and Baekhyun's eyes watches the way his lips move, before forcing himself to meet his eyes again.

Then he's huffing out a nervous chuckle, his glassy eyes now tearful. "When I told you I wanted to make it work, back at the lake," he says, the smile on his face widening, "I meant a relationship."

Baekhyun reels.

_...Oh._

"Oh," he says. "So, I'm — I'm the dumb one — the one who held us back even longer, when— when I said _friends_—"

Jongdae laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world

"Baekhyun," Jongdae says simply, and Baekhyun _feels_ rather than sees his smile when, in the next second, it's pressed against his mouth.

His hand cradles the back of Baekhyun's hand, strong at first, before it relaxes into an affectionate hold, his fingers weaving through the strands there as Baekhyun slots his mouth against Jongdae's. He feels an arm slide around his waist, hitching him up the bench until his thighs are touching Jongdae's, until their shoulders are bumping. Baekhyun brings his hand up to Jongdae's cheek and presses his thumb there, fondly.

When they part, it's with dark eyes. Jongdae's gaze flickers all over Baekhyun's face, throat visibly bobbing. Baekhyun waits, unsure, wanting to say something, but not wanting to ruin the moment.

Then Jongdae is smiling at him again, that thousand-watt smile of his, that sunset of a smile, the one where his eyes turn into half moons and his cheeks go rosy. There's an exhaustion in the way he laughs, the way he presses his forehead against Baekhyun's and breathes him in, like he's tired, but relieved. Baekhyun knows the feeling. It feels like there's a flower blooming in his chest, petals unraveling.

Slowly, he presses forward again to press his lips against Jongdae's, but softer this time, a sweet press of lips on lips, Jongdae's bottom lip puckered between Baekhyun's two.

"Just think," Jongdae says, sometime between their kisses, "if you'd have told me about all this earlier, about you leaving, about your feelings, then we could have been doing this the entire time."

The thought makes Baekhyun flush, and he pulls away slightly in embarrassment, kept close to Jongdae only by the comfortable hand on his nape massaging circles into his skin there.

"Better late than never, right?" he chuckles, but it comes out awkward, embarrassed, and Jongdae laughs in return.

“We can make it work,” Jongdae says. “I’m willing to, for you.”

“It will work,” Baekhyun says. “We always make it work. What’s a few countries between us going to do?”

Jongdae smiles, but it’s sad, and Baekhyun knows what’s going through his mind.

"Can I drop you off at the airport at least?" Jongdae says, hand gliding around from his nape to his cheek.

“Our first date?” Baekhyun offers with a playful, trying smile.

Jongdae laughs again, before his expression turns serious, eyes still glazed as his thumb rubs over Baekhyun’s cheek.

“You stopped this, back at the festival,” Jongdae says, “even though you liked me too. Why?”

Baekhyun’s throat bobs, and his gaze flickers all over Jongdae’s face as he searches for the right answer.

“You’ve had people leave you all your life,” he says. “I just didn’t want to be another.”

“It’s okay if you do,” Jongdae says, “because I know you’re coming back.”

Then Jongdae’s eyes are widening, doubt flickering in his eyes.

“You are coming back, right?” he asks.

Baekhyun laughs, feeling warm under Jongdae’s affectionate and tender fingertips.

_”Of course”_, he says, lightly punching him on the chest. “If you’re here. Then yeah. Of course.”

They end the evening with Baekhyun’s head in Jongdae’s lap (he’s proud to say he knows how it feels now.) Jongdae runs his hands through Baekhyun's hair, content and pleased smile on his face. It's soothing to the touch, relaxing, but at the same time, has a chill run down Baekhyun's spine. Occasionally, he will lean down to press his lips against Baekhyun’s, to laugh against his lips.

Baekhyun does not think about tomorrow, does not think about the future, and yet — he still knows what a great memory this will be for him.

"I'll miss my flight like this."

"Shh."

Jongdae shuts him up with his mouth, slotting his lips against Baekhyun's. Baekhyun feels him smile into the kiss, almost smug, and it spurs him to kiss against him harder, arms slipping tighter around his waist until Jongdae hitches himself up higher on Baekhyun's lap.

He ends up moving a bit too much forward, hand shooting out to stop himself from crushing Baekhyun into the backseat, laughing into his mouth when Baekhyun grumbles.

“It actually really suits you, this tattoo,” Jongdae says. Baekhyun shivers underneath his lips as they trace around the area, just barely brushing against it. “My dragonfly made of stars.”

He presses a kiss there, and another, and another, Baekhyun gasping softly with each one. He feels Jongdae smile against his skin, knows he’s smug over the noises he’s getting Baekhyun to make, so he shoves him up a little, away from his neck and back to where he can get his lips on his own, to kiss that smug smile away.

"Fuck, Jongd-- I'm going to be late."

"I don't want to let you go,” he says, pouting against his neck. _Pouting._

“I shouldn’t have let you drop me off,” Baekhyun laughs, but it turns breathy halfway through when Jongdae presses a kiss on his collarbone.

“Mm, but it’s our first date,” Jongdae says.

_”Jongdae.”_

“Alright, alright,” Jongdae says, throwing himself off of Baekhyun’s lap to sit beside him instead. “I just — I wish we had more time.”

Baekhyun worries then, can’t help the flicker of fear that worms its way into his thinking. Jongdae must see the brief panic in his eyes, because then he’s ushering forward with a hand on Baekhyun’s cheek to pull him in for a soft kiss, softer than the rest.

“Hey,” he says, when he pulls away. “I wish we had more time, but that doesn’t mean this won’t work.”

“I know, I know,” Baekhyun says. “I just don’t want you to regret anything, down the road.”

Jongdae smiles in assurance, and just like that, all of Baekhyun’s fears and worries melt away.

“I can never regret you.”

Baekhyun can’t handle it and abruptly pulls him in for another long makeout.

They don’t manage to leave the car until fifteen minutes later, when Baekhyun’s dragging his luggage towards the gate. Jongdae follows closely behind, and Baekhyun can’t stand to look back at him before he reaches the gate or else, he might not go through with it.

“I’ll send you care packages.”

_”Care packages,”_ Jongdae repeats with a laugh. “I’ll send you new _Uprising_ tapes so you can stop listening to the same one.”

“Oh, I would _love_ that,” Baekhyun says, “but there’s something special about the first one I bought. It’ll still be my favorite.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes, but chuckles all the same. “I’ll do my best to change your mind.”

Baekhyun hums, eyes going soft, tone going even softer as he tilts his head and regards Jongdae with a tender smile. “Dedicate one for me, won’t you?” he says.

Jongdae moves closer, puts his hand on Baekhyun’s nape to pull him in for an affectionate kiss, a sweet slide of lips against lips.

When he pulls away, he doesn’t _move_ away much, still close as he says, “They’re _all_ dedicated to you, idiot.”

An indulgent smile creeps onto Baekhyun’s face. He feels a little ridiculous, a little embarrassed, but it can’t beat the flutter that starts up in his chest.

"I'll see you soon, okay?" Baekhyun says.

"Call me when you get settled in."

"I will."

Baekhyun looks back only once before he goes through the gate, giving Jongdae a wave and smiling when he gives one back. He tries not to be sad about it, tries not to linger on this last moment too much, because before he knows it, he’ll be back in his arms and they’ll be right where they should be again — together.

**five months later.**

Baekhyun's late, knows very well he's late, and he's anxious as all hell, afraid that his suit isn't fitted right or looks weird on him. He only had a few seconds to glance in the mirror before he dashed out of his house.

He swipes a hand over his hair, stomach in knots as he eyes the stage with concerned eyes. The lights have dimmed, and there's an expectant silence that falls over the crowd.

Then, he jumps when a strong hand lands and clamps onto his shoulder.

"Baekhyun," a voice whisper-talks into his ear.

"God," he jumps, only to see that it's Jongdeok with his new wife on his arm. "Hey, man."

"Glad you could make it," he grins at him, Haewon peeking over his shoulder to offer Baekhyun a smile and a wave as well. "You're late, though."

"I know," Baekhyun groans, eyes flickering nervously to the stage. "My cab was late getting me home from the airport, I barely even had time to get ready."

"Clearly," Jongdeok teases with a smile, putting Baekhyun's strands of hair back in place. "Jongdae didn't say anything but he did seem a bit tense."

Baekhyun swallows at the revelation. "I'll make it up to him," he says. "He'll see me here in the crowd when he performs, it'll be nice."

Jongdeok's smile is comforting this time, pleased. “I’m really glad to see you, man.”

Baekhyun smiles in returns as Jongdeok ushers away with his wife, her dress trailing behind her as they start to move towards the empty dance floor.

Jongdae and his bandmates come on stage soon enough, and when Baekhyun sees him again, his heart lifts, his breath hitches, and his lips involuntarily twitch up into a smile.

He looks really good in a suit.

He hasn’t noticed Baekhyun yet, announcing to the crowd the title of the song they’re going to play first. Baekhyun’s pulse thrums in anticipation when the venue quiets down just before the first few seconds start, just before the first slow riff from Jongdae’s guitar. He moves about the stage for a bit before coming back to the mic, singing the first line.

Baekhyun recognizes the song as one of the songs on the new tape Jongdae sent him a few months ago. It’s slow, gentle, _loving_, much like Jongdae himself, the lyrics crooning of an eternal love rather than the first love of before. Baekhyun prides himself on being Jongdae’s _both_.

After a while, more couples go up to the dancefloor to join Jongdeok and Haewon slowly dancing in the center of it all. Baekhyun is one of the few left at the tables, and he feels a little sad that he cannot dance with Jongdae here, but it’s alright — they can do that later. It is so much more rewarding to watch him perform like this, anyway. His heart swells in pride with every note.

Then, when Jongdae opens his eyes during the bridge, his gaze passes over the crowd of dancing guests, until they manage to find Baekhyun’s. Baekhyun, feeling choked up, smiles at him, gives him a little wave. Jongdae’s brows curve up in that way they do when he’s emotional, feeling too many things at once, and he smiles into the microphone, and suddenly stands up straight, as if he’s aware now that Baekhyun’s watching and has got to put on the best performance of his life.

Over the course of the rest of the performance, Jongdae’s eyes keep finding Baekhyun’s, flashing with affection, warmth, and sometimes impatience. Baekhyun too, feels it, eager to be in his arms again. The song slows into its end, the couples slowing as well, as they start up an applause for Jongdae and his band. Baekhyun joins them, chest tight when Jongdae winks his way.

It’s only the second time Baekhyun’s seen him perform live with his band, and yet, it has the same effect as the first, in that Baekhyun feels like he’s falling for him all over again. This time though, he knows what that falling feeling is, can finally put a name to it. That star has finally crash landed somewhere safe, and warm, in the arms of a sweet, sweet comet.

“This isn’t what I thought you meant when you said I had to make it up to you.”

Jongdae chuckles into his ear, pulls him closer.

“What’d you think, then?”

“Knowing you? Some kind of form of torture.”

“You say that like I want to hurt you,” Jongdae hums, pressing a kiss on his jawline. “You were late, so what? C’mere.”

Jongdae pulls away from him to sit on the edge of his bed, grabbing Baekhyun by the loops of his slacks and dragging him closer. They’re still in their formalwear, having come straight from the wedding to Jongdae and his bandmates’ home.

"I've really missed you,” he says, looking up at him with a smile that Baekhyun is eager to kiss.

"Come on," Baekhyun says. "This should be nothing compared to high school."

"Yeah, but at least then I got to see your pretty face every day." Jongdae grins at the way Baekhyun flusters. "Plus, we're together now, so it makes it even more unbearable knowing I can't hold you like I want to."

"You're embarrassing," Baekhyun groans, but makes no move to pull away, only comes closer as Jongdae pulls him into his lap. He settles comfortably there, thighs straddling Jongdae’s, playing with the hair at his nape.

Jongdae only hums in response before kissing him, just a light, innocent pucker at first. Then he goes for another, and another, each kiss getting deeper, longer. Baekhyun lingers more and more after each one, before he gets impatient and stops messing around, pressing his mouth against Jongdae’s and sliding his tongue between his lips.

Jongdae moans at his sudden initiative, struggling to balance them on the bed as Baekhyun presses closer into him. He pulls away only to nuzzle into Jongdae's neck, mouths along the length, not quite kissing, just ghosting his lips over his skin there, until he reaches his shoulder. He pops open the first button of Jongdae's shirt, just enough so that he can pull down his collar to reveal the mole at his collarbone. He presses a kiss there, smiling when he feels Jongdae shudder under him.

"You're a menace," Jongdae says. His voice has gone lighter, a bit more airy, almost like he's breathy.

"I've done nothing to you," Baekhyun's smile widens against his collar.

"I can feel you smiling," Jongdae says. "Please just kiss me."

Baekhyun chuckles again, deep, before dragging his lips back to Jongdae's and pressing them against his fervently, determined. It's slow, but deep, with a motive behind it.

His arms wind around Jongdae's neck, pulling him close into him. Their lips part and press again, part and press again as they pull each other back and forth. Jongdae's arms go from wrapped around Baekhyun's waist to unwinding and settling on Baekhyun's active hips, down to where his thighs are straddled around Jongdae's. His touch is hot, burning, leaving a trail of fire and energy everywhere they go and it spurs Baekhyun on even more as he ravels his fingers into Jongdae's hair and clutches him close once Jongdae’s mouth falls down to his neck, mouthing at his adam’s apple.

Baekhyun swears when he nips at the skin on his neck, unable to take it anymore and pushing Jongdae onto the sheets, earning a snigger from him. Baekhyun lands on him in a bit of a mess, half on top of him and half on the bed. He can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of him, both from Jongdae’s ticklish fingers on his waist — now slipped under his loosened dress shirt — and the ridiculous position they’re in.

He holds himself up, hovering over Jongdae with a meaningful look in his eyes as the laughter between them dies down. Jongdae’s fingertips keep ghosting over Baekhyun’s waist, up and down, as his eyes flicker all over Baekhyun’s face.

“You good?” he asks, barely a sigh.

The smile’s back on Baekhyun’s face, but softer this time. “Yeah,” he says.

He leans down for another kiss, closing the space between them. Jongdae’s fingertips are insistent now as they press into Baekhyun’s waist, pushing him down until their chests are touching. A rush of bravery, induced by sheer adrenaline and encouraged by the hardening bulge he’s starting to feel in Jongdae’s pants, brings Baekhyun to press his palm against Jongdae’s cheek as he moves his mouth against Jongdae’s — hot, eager, slow, and then rushed again, like they can’t get enough, but want to take their time. Every second is spent mapping out each other’s bodies as they push and pull against each other, no time wasted.

When Jongdae pushes against Baekhyun’s chest to flip them over, Baekhyun takes the opportunity to undo the rest of the buttons on Jongdae’s shirt. His hand slides down his bare chest, stopping at the waistband of his slacks while his lips never leave Jongdae’s. He leans his face up every single time Jongdae pulls away with a teasing smile on his face, laughing into his mouth when Jongdae relents and gives him another kiss after kiss after kiss.

All of the laughter dies on his lips when he feels Jongdae’s leg slide in between his own, breath hitching. His mouth moves back to his neck when Baekhyun slides his hands under the sheer fabric of his shirt and pulls it off the rest of the way. It gives him leeway into pressing his fingertips into Jongdae’s back, pulling him closer to himself.

“Is this too fast?” Jongdae asks against his neck.

“No,” Baekhyun is quick to assure. He twists his neck to make room for Jongdae, to accommodate him kissing and nipping the skin there. “Too slow.”

Jongdae chuckles, but it’s deep and rumbles throughout his chest. Baekhyun feels it through his palm there, and he knows Jongdae’s doing it on purpose, sounding like this on purpose. It affects him anyway.

“Fuck,” Baekhyun gasps as Jongdae’s thigh inadvertently — or not — brushes against his clothed crotch.

“Mm, you’re wearing too many clothes,” Jongdae says, pressing a quick kiss on Baekhyun’s mouth before he sits up in his lap, undoing the rest of the buttons on Baekhyun’s shirt. “Don’t hold back, babe. We’re alone, you know.”

It was true — the rest of the bandmates had gone out for dinner, while Baekhyun and Jongdae opted to head out together instead. It rightfully earned them a few knowing stares, and although Baekhyun had been embarrassed at the time, he thinks — as Jongdae latches a mouth onto his bare nipple — that it was worth being painfully, blatantly obvious.

Baekhyun weaves his fingers through Jongdae’s soft brown hair again, tousling it up as Jongdae moves further down his body. He presses soft kisses against his stomach, gentle and sweet, until there’s a sudden sharp nip there, and he jumps at the feeling, slapping Jongdae’s nape lightly when he laughs.

“You’ll be here for a week, right?” Jongdae asks, undoing the buttons on Baekhyun’s pants.

Baekhyun only hums in affirmation, confused as to why Jongdae’s _talking_ like they’re having a normal conversation, and not fucking him.

He says as much, voice breathy, and Jongdae chuckles in that deep way again before dragging his pants and boxers down the length of his legs.

“Pretty,” Baekhyun vaguely registers Jongdae saying as a hand wraps around his cock. He gives it a tug, up and down, and Baekhyun — already sensitive — groans at his touch. He swears again, blissed out at the sight of Jongdae straddling his thighs, hand tugging at his dick, hair hanging over his head and mouth parted as his eyes go straight to Baekhyun’s, heavy and dark with intent.

Baekhyun can’t take it, feels like he’s going to combust when he reaches up to wrap one hand around Jongdae’s nape and pull him down for a searing kiss, and uses his other hand to start working at Jongdae’s pants. Jongdae seems to get distracted by the kiss, messy and rough, because his hand starts getting sloppy around Baekhyun’s dick. He stutters around it and slows before realizing, and speeds up again, without warning, earning yet another moan from Baekhyun that’s immediately muffled by Jongdae’s mouth.

Baekhyun wraps both hands around the hem of Jongdae’s pants and starts to pull them down, hoping he _finally_ gets the hint. He’s a little preoccupied still, lips sliding in between Baekhyun’s and hand still fisting at his now fully hard cock, until he realizes what Baekhyun wants and reluctantly pulls himself away to tug the rest of his clothing off.

When he jumps back onto the bed, Baekhyun bounces with the mattress, laughing into Jongdae’s mouth as he gets his hand on Jongdae’s dick too.

_”Fuck,”_ he hisses, pulling away from Baekhyun’s mouth. His hips start moving, grinding his cock into Baekhyun’s hand as his forehead falls onto Baekhyun’s chest. Baekhyun, suddenly flooded by an affectionate, fond warmth in his chest, nestles his other hand into Jongdae’s hair, and presses a kiss on the side of his head. Encouraged by Jongdae’s panting and slow, deep grind, he tugs at the strands of his hair, teeth sinking into his bottom lip when Jongdae’s fingers wrap around Baekhyun again.

_”So good,”_ Jongdae mutters, pressing a kiss to Baekhyun’s chest before he pulls away, sitting on his thighs again. Impatient, he waves Baekhyun’s hand away to wrap his own around both of their erections. “You’re so beautiful.”

Baekhyun flushes underneath him, sliding his hands up Jongdae’s thick thighs and throwing his head back when Jongdae grinds their dicks together. The slide is painfully good, made even better when Jongdae spits into his palm and wraps it around their hard members.

It’s messy and _wet_ and sloppy, Jongdae’s hand gliding over their dicks as he bounces lightly on Baekhyun’s lap, as Baekhyun moves against him too, hips rutting against Jongdae’s. His grip on his thighs tighten before they slide up to Jongdae’s chest, mapping out the light array of tattoos there.

Baekhyun didn’t think, didn’t believe, that he’d ever be graced with the sight of Jongdae on top of him like this, eyes shut in bliss and cheeks a stark red. His weight on him is comforting, assuring, his hand on him hot and gratifying. With every roll of his hips, Baekhyun’s cock ruts against Jongdae’s and it’s so _good_, so rousing, a shot of pleasure and heat in his groin with every tug of Jongdae’s hand.

Baekhyun digs his nails into Jongdae’s forearm when he feels himself getting closer, searches for purchase _anywhere_ on him, slides his hands to his chest, to his thighs again, to his hips. Jongdae’s breathing gets heavier, and Baekhyun can tell he’s close too, little stuttering moans escaping from his mouth every so often. He hunches over then, lands a palm onto the bed right by Baekhyun’s head as his other hand works at their erections even faster, messier, the grind so, _so_ good.

Jongdae reaches his climax first, coming onto Baekhyun’s chest, sweat on his neck glistening in the dim yellow light. His grip on their dicks slows as he loses himself in his orgasm, and Baekhyun has to wrap his own hand around Jongdae’s smaller one, moves them both around his dick as he pushes himself towards his own.

He comes with a moan when Jongdae leans down to kiss him, to press his mouth hard against his. His fisting slows, pulling his sticky hands to wrap them around the back of Jongdae’s neck as their breathing slows, as their chests stop thundering so loudly.

“Gross,” Jongdae protests when Baekhyun’s hand meets his nape. Baekhyun only chuckles in return, reaching up for one last peck on his mouth before Jongdae pulls away. He flops onto the bed beside Baekhyun, faced towards him, arm still thrown across his chest.

“That was...”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun agrees, laughing and turning to meet his gaze. Jongdae pants a little more before he smiles at him, soft and warm, like he didn’t just get him off. He brings a hand up to swipe at Baekhyun’s bangs, before resting it on his cheek and pulling him in for a softer kiss, sweeter.

“I can’t believe I only have a week to do the things I want to do with you,” Jongdae whispers against his mouth. It’s soft and plush, and Baekhyun can’t resist going in for another kiss.

“We’ll make it the best week,” Baekhyun says, beaming when Jongdae pulls away to take him in properly. His thumb rubs at his cheek, lip curls turned up sweetly. Baekhyun loses himself in his gaze, finds the same love there he’s seen, but not recognized, for years. They could have had more than a week, but there’s no point in dwelling on it now.

Besides, they’ll have a whole _summer_ next year, after the school year ends. Baekhyun hadn’t initially planned on returning for the summers, but for Jongdae, he’ll do whatever. Or, Jongdae will come to him — whichever, as long as they’re with each other. Maybe they can take another trip together and spend it doing things like _this_ rather than skirting around each other and eating too much fruit.

Jongdae slides his hand down to his neck, rubbing a fingertip over Baekhyun’s tattoo fondly.

“How you feelin’, Dragonfly?” he asks.

“Don’t call me that right after jacking me off,” Baekhyun groans. “It feels wrong.”

Jongdae laughs, nestling into his neck despite how messy they both are. They’ll shower in a bit. Or later. Whenever.

They have time.

“Fine,” Jongdae heeds. “I’ll just call you _mine,_ then.”

**Author's Note:**

> please talk to me on twitter @xiseoks ;n;
> 
> anyway I hope you liked it chrissu ily also am screaming at the one out-of-context chrissy reference that I hope everyone else just glossed over and not questioned it too much heh bdggbf
> 
> thanks for reading!!


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